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THE 

GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 







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“Fire! Fire! A Quaker to the rescue! 





THE 

GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


BY 

MARY CONSTANCE DU BOIS 

Author of “Elinor Arden, Royalist,’’ “The Lass 
or the Silver Sword,’’ “The League of 
the Signet Ring,’’ etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

A. D. RAHN 



NEW YORK 
THE CENTURY CO. 
1918 


Copyright, 1918, by 
The Century Co. 


Published, September , 1918 


CL A 503333 



. 


\6 19 '® 

-"H/O ' ^ ' 

( 


WELLESLEY DAVIS 
JANET MOORE 
AND 

MARY PEACE 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Star-Spangled Banner .... 3 

II An Exile 17 

III The Sleeping Beauty 32 

IV The Girl Who had Forgotten .... 48 

V King Equinoctial ....... 63 

VI A Prisoner of War 76 

VII The Mystic Symbol 95 

VIII The Merry Maids of Netley . . . .116 

IX Mimosa 135 

X Emerald Estrella 146 

XI Will-o’- the- Wisps 161 

XII Old Glory Defies the Foe 178 

XIII The Patriot’s Vision 193 

XIV Good-by, Old Glory! 212 

XV Desperation 227 

XVI Military Tactics 249 

XVII Who Won the Day? 270 

XVIII Captives 283 

XIX The Queen of the Sea-Gulls .... 303 
XX Northward Ho! 320 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI A Race with the Clouds ..... 342 

XXII A Sea Tragedy 356 

XXIII The Whistle 365 

XXIV Rays op Light 379 

XXV A Flood of Light 388 

XXVI 4 4 Salute the Colors !” 408 

After-Word 421 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

“Fire! Fire! A Quaker to the rescue!” Frontispiece 

PACINO 

PAG* 

There, framed in shrubbery, stood the singer herself 14 

“Oh, Maddie, I was so frightened about you! I’ve 
been all over, trying to find you!” .... 254 


Over her head two gulls sailed slowly and rested on 
their wings, as if hoping to be in the picture, too 382 




THE 

GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 







THE 

GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


CHAPTER I 

THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 

N OW, Grandfather! Now, Daddy! Come! 

But you must shut your eyes before I let 
you out of the door. Then give me your hands 
and I ’ll lead you. You must n’t see my surprise 
till you ’re close up to it.” 

Raymonde Heathcote issued this order, and 
both her grandfather, the major, and her father, 
the doctor, submitted with lamb-like docility. No- 
body could have mutinied against a command 
given by this winsome girl of fourteen, whose blue 
eyes were dancing their merriest, whose cheeks 
were at their rosiest, and whose gold-brown hair 
looked its prettiest, because all in a curly tumble. 
She led the two captives across the lawn. 

“Now,” said she, bringing them to a standstill 
at last, “open your eyes and behold.” 

They obeyed and found themselves at the front 
gate. Raymonde ’s mother waited, smiling, near 
3 


4 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

by; and, mounted on the stone wall, stood a trio* 
of girls, all three together holding the surprise.. 
The center of this trio and the oldest was Lee 
Armitage, — Dixie, as her school-fellows called her,, 
because her home was in Virginia, — a tall, pale 
lass with delicate features, fine gray eyes, and a 
bright, earnest face. On her right was her cousin, 
Petronella Armitage, a fairy-like little person, 
whose stately name was entirely too ponderous for 
her, but whose sobriquet of Peter Pan described 
her exactly. Equally suitable was her other nick- 
name, Pet; for everybody petted her, including 
her dignified cousin, Lee, who considered her a 
thorough-going baby, though piquant little Peter 
Pan with the fly-away auburn locks was only a 
few months her junior. The girl on Lee’s left was 
of sturdy build, and her short, wavy hair, parted 
on the side, gave her a boyish appearance. Sarah 
Elizabeth Thompson — so her name stood on the 
school register; but she was Tommy to her 
friends, and Tommy she would continue to be 
straight through her college days. A jolly, snub- 
nosed, freckled-faced, tow-headed Tommy was she, 
and nothing else, an all-around good fellow, with 
the best heart in the world. 

These three — Lee, whose health required a cool, 
northern climate, her cousin, whose father was in 
business down in Porto Rico, and Tommy, whose 
parents were missionaries in China — all were 
spending the summer with their classmate, Ray- 


THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 5 


monde, who attended as a day-scholar the school 
at which they were boarders. If this enterprising 
quartette of friends had not been together through 
the vacation, the eyes of old Major Heathcote, 
G. A. R., would not now have been gladdened with 
the sight of what he dearly loved, the Star-Span- 
gled Banner itself. The three girl guests were 
holding outspread a flag, a brand-new specimen 
of Old Glory ; and while his son, the doctor, 
clapped applause, the white-haired veteran of the 
Civil War raised his hand to his forehead and sa- 
luted the colors. 

Raymonde joined her friends on top of the wall 
and took a corner of the flag, herself. Waving 
the Stars and Stripes, the four lifted their clear 
young voices in the national anthem. 

“Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, 
And this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust!’ 

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave 
0 ’er the land of the free and the home of the brave . ' ’ 

When they had sung the closing strains, the 
patriotic choir came down from the wall to allow 
the major to inspect the colors more closely. 

“Why,” he exclaimed, “what a magnificent 
flag! You don’t mean to say — 99 

“Yes, Grandfather, we do mean to say!” an- 
swered Raymonde. “We Ve made it all our- 
selves, every single stitch. And we kept it a se- 
cret from you , because we knew how delighted 


6 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


you ’d be when it was done. And we didn’t tell 
Daddy, because be can’t keep a secret. It is a 
beauty, isn’t it! And what do you suppose it ’s 
for? Guess!” 

“It ’s to be draped over my study mantelpiece, 
isn’t it, to set me dreaming of my old campaign- 
ing days?” said the Grand Army man. 

“No, Grandfather, it ’s not for you — ” began 
Raymonde. 

“It ’s for ourselves!” broke in Lee Armitage. 
“Ourselves and our class! We — ” 

“We’re p-p-p-patriots ! ” interrupted Peter 
Pan, whose words, when she was very eager, were 
apt to come pushing and jostling each other so 
fast that the result was a funny little stutter, quite 
irresistible, for her southern voice was very sweet. 

“We ’re the Girls of Old Glory!” Tommy an- 
nounced. ‘ i Ray thought of that name. Is n ’t it 
a dandy peach?” Here she clapped her hand 
over her mouth and glanced at Mrs. Heathcote, 
who was always hopelessly endeavoring to cure 
the rising generation of slang. “But,” Tommy 
insisted, “Girls of Old Glory is a dandy name — 
isn’t it?” 

“It sounds to me like the very height of dandi- 
ness,” replied the major. “But what is all this 
about patriots and Girls of Old Glory? Is it a 
club you ’re forming?” 

, “Oh, no, Grandfather, it ’s not a club. It ’s our 
class name,” answered Raymonde. “Each class 


THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 7 


in the Upper School has its own name. You know 
we enter the Upper School this fall. And we 
have to choose our class name when we start and 
stick to it till we graduate — and we have to live 
up to it, too ! Well, as soon as we were promoted 
last June, we four girls were appointed a com- 
mittee to think up the name this summer.” 

The choice of a class name had, it turned out, 
been inspired by the great European War, then 
hotly raging, though peace still reigned in the 
United States. “So,” Raymonde continued, “as 
the boys and girls over in Europe are doing all 
they can for their soldiers in the war, and serv- 
ing their countries so splendidly, — the Boy Scouts 
and the Girl Scouts and all of them, — we thought 
we ought to be patriotic over here. So we ’re 
going to be the Girls of Old Glory — ” 

“And we call ourselves the ‘0. G. G.’s,’ ” Peter 
Pan thrust in. “That ’s short for Old Glory 
Girls. ’ ’ 

“And we Ve been making this flag for our 
class/ ’ said Tommy, and daringly murmured, 
“Some flag!” 

“We haven’t had time to think of anything 
else to do yet,” explained Lee. “But we cer- 
tainly ought to be able to find some more patriotic 
things to do, even if it is all peaceful over here. 
Don’t you think so, Major Heathcote?” 

“I know it,” he answered. “Patriots are 
needed in peace time as well as in war time. 


8 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


They ’re the people that keep a country strong 
and healthy. And war times may come again. 
Who knows but we may be in the Great War be- 
fore it ends! Well, well, well,” he added, “I ’m 
glad the spirit of patriotism is waking up again as 
it did in ’61!” 

44 Can’t I be an Old Glory Girl too?” asked 
Raymonde’s father. 

4 4 No, Daddy, dear, I ’m afraid you can’t,” 
laughed his daughter. 4 4 You ’d never keep the 
rules. But I ’ll tell you what you can do. You 
can give me permission to ride Victory up to the 
4 other veteran’s.’ He ’s making us a flagstaff, 
so we can carry our flag when we have school pro- 
cessions. I promised him I ’d show it to him as 
soon as it was done. He wants to be sure the flag- 
staff is the right length. Please, Daddy, let me 
go! I won’t run down any autos, and I want to 
keep my promise.” 

4 4 And still more you want to have a good canter 
with Victory — isn’t that it?” said her father. 
4 4 Well, Vic needs exercise, and it won’t do to 
quench this patriotic fire just as it ’s kindled. I 
think we ’ll have to let you go.” 

4 4 But keep to D’Arcy Road, Ray,” her mother 
put in. 4 4 You meet too many motors, going the 
other way. And ride slowly around corners, re- 
member. ’ ’ 

4 4 Yes, Momsie, dearie, I ’ll go the safe way and 
ride carefully and listen for auto toots. I prom- 


THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 9 

ise, my patriot mother. There ! That ’s a new 
name for you !” 

Away ran Raymonde to don her khaki riding- 
habit. When she reappeared she was mounted 
on Victory II., namesake of the fine black war- 
horse that Major Heathcote had ridden when 
serving as a young officer in a regiment of volun- 
teer cavalry. Victory II. was as jetty black as 
Victory I. had been, but of smaller, lighter mold, 
and gentler spirit, an ideal lady’s horse, trained 
to stand the roar of motor cars as unflinchingly as 
the major’s war charger had stood the thunder 
of the guns. It was the major himself who had 
bought this beautiful, graceful creature to be the 
pet and comrade of his only grandson and of the 
little granddaughter whom he was doing his best 
to spoil, and he it was who had taught Raymonde 
to ride, so that she was now as much at home in 
the saddle as on the tennis-court or the croquet- 
ground. 

“Now hand up the flag,” said Victory’s young 
mistress. 

“Don’t carry it all folded up,” said Tommy. 
“Throw it around your shoulders, so people can 
see it. Put it on like a shawl.” 

“I won’t either! I ’d look too silly!” 

At this there arose a teasing duet from Tommy 
and Peter Pan. “Coward! Coward! Ashamed 
of the Stars and Stripes! Oh, Raymonde! A 
nice kind of a patriot you are!” 


10 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“I dare you to wear it! I d-d-d-double dare 
you!” cried Petronella. 

Raymonde yielded. 

“I always take a dare,” said she. “Dress me 
up in the flag, please, Grandfather.” 

Major Heathcote wrapped the Stars and Stripes 
around his granddaughter in picturesque fashion, 
like a Scotch plaid. 

“I see blue sky and stars right here,” said he, 
looking into her eyes. The sky that he saw in 
them was a very deep blue, and the stars were 
very bright. 

‘ ‘ Good-by, Grandfather, dear, ’ 9 Raymonde 
dropped a kiss on his silver-white head. “Fare- 
well, my patriot Parents! By-by, Girls of Old 
Glory!” Flourishing her whip like a saber, she 
rode away toward the home of the other and 
younger veteran, who had served through our war 
with Spain and now followed the peaceful trade 
of a carpenter. 

D’Arcy Road, a roundabout, but safe and quiet 
way to her destination, led past the Castle, as 
every one called the old D’Arcy mansion, with its 
tower, its ivy-clad walls, and its air of lonely 
grandeur. Poor old Castle! Its owners must 
have had very little love for it, since, for a quar- 
ter of a century, no one had lived there but the 
gray-haired gardener and his wife. 

While Victory trotted gently along, Raymonde ’s 
active brain was busy with patriotic plans, and 


THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 11 


these all centered about the solitary Castle. Gar- 
dens and greensward were forbidden to visitors 
in general, but the rest of the great D’Arcy estate 
was regarded as a sort of public pleasure-ground 
by the rising generation of Ridgemont. Children 
claimed as their right the apples from the fine 
orchard, and the Boy Scouts held their base-ball 
matches in the North Lot. What fun it would 
be, thought Raymonde, to hold — after school 
opened — a class picnic, call it an “Old Glory 
Rally,” in the D’Arcy woods! And how about 
having a patriotic nutting-party there, too, when 
the chestnuts and hickories grew ripe? Just as 
she had hit upon the idea of a Star-Spangled Ban- 
ner skating-party when Jack Frost should have 
covered the D ’Arcys ’ pond with ice, and long be- 
fore she came within view of the great stone man- 
sion on the hill, she noticed a khaki-clad figure 
coming toward her at a leisurely, swinging pace. 
She recognized both the strongly built frame and 
that easy swing. Edward Heathcote, Assistant 
Master of the Ridgemont Boy Scouts, was return- 
ing from an afternoon’s fishing in shady D’Arcy 
Pool. His sister rode forward to join the big 
fellow of seventeen, with his fish-pole and his 
goodly haul of small fry. 

“Hello, Pat!” was his greeting, — “Pat” being 
short for Patriot. “What are you draped in the 
Stars and Stripes for? You look like a military 
funeral ! 9 9 


12 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“ You look like a fish funeral,” she retorted, 
eyeing his string of silvery victims. “Poor little, 
limp, floppy fishes ! They look so pitiful ! ’ ’ 

“Much you pity ’em when you eat ’em!” lazily 
drawled the unsentimental angler. 4 4 But no more 
fish suppers out of D’Arcy Pool for you, Ma’am, 
after to-night! They ’ve put a sign up, ‘No tres- 
passing Lucky I did n’t see it till I got through 
fishing! And there ’s another 4 no trespassing’ 
sign in the orchard.” 

44 Why, Ned, how mean! What have they done 
that for?” 

Ned hitched his shoulders. 

4 4 The owner must be sitting up and taking no- 
tice. I saw a load of trunks going up the hill, 
to-day. And they ’ve been fixing up the place 
lately. Looks as if the D’Arcys were moving in 
at last.” 

Dismay spread over his sister’s face. 

4 4 Horrors! Oh, Ned, wouldn’t that he awful! 
Then we couldn’t have any more picnics there.” 

4 4 No — nor ball games,” grunted her brother. 

4 4 Good-by to all my plans, then! No Old Glory 
rallies for us!” sighed Raymonde. 4 4 But I don’t 
see why they need stick up 4 no trespassing’ signs 
even if they are coming back. They don’t need 
all those acres and acres just for themselves. 
They must be regular dogs in the manger! I ’m 
sure the owner ’s a mean old millionaire miser. 
He ’s an ogre of selfishness.” 


THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 13 


“How do you know it ’s ‘he’?” inquired Ned. 
“I bet she ’s an old maid. You can make her 
president of the Old Girls.” 

Ray menaced him with her riding-whip for leav- 
ing out the “ Glory’ ’ in referring to the 0. G. G.’s. 

“He ’s a man. I ’m sure he is. Oh, but I wish 
I owned a gold mine! Then I ’ d buy the Castle 
from him and turn it into a Patriots’ Hall. I ’d 
give your Boy Scouts the North Lot for a present. 
Well, anyway, I ’m going to find out the truth. 
Come on, Ned! Let ’s stop at the Castle and ask 
the gardener what it all means.” 

Her easy-going brother, too, was growing curi- 
ous to know the reason why ; so, while she walked 
her horse, he sauntered at her side. 

“What sort of a person wears a blue skirt and 
a red apron and a white thing on her head?” he 
asked suddenly. 

“A very patriotic person, I should think,” re- 
plied Raymonde, “if she ’s dressed in red, white, 
and blue. What do you mean, Ned? Did you see 
anybody like that ? ’ 1 

“She had yellow on her, too,” said Ned, re- 
flectivefy, “and a lot of beads, and her hair down 
in long black braids. And she had a — what do 
you call that jingly thing? A tambourine, isn’t 
it?” 

“But who was she, Ned? Where did you see 
her?” 

“Over at the Harrisons’, as I was going by. 


14 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


She was a girl about your size, and she was out 
on their lawn, singing to beat the band. She had 
a peach of a voice. The Harrisons were all out 
there, listening to her. And then she danced for 
them and jingled her tambourine. But when they 
began talking to her, she shook her head and ran 
out of the gate, laughing.” 

“Oh, I wish I ’ d seen her!” cried Raymonde. 
“I wonder where she is now? When was it you 
saw her?” 

‘ ‘ On my way to the brook. She must have been 
singing from house to house. What do you sup- 
pose she was, anyhow, rigged up like that?” 

Raymonde considered. 

‘ ‘ Don ’t Spanish people have tambourines ? Oh, 
Ned, maybe she was a Spanish gipsy! I ’m sure 
I Ve heard of Spanish gipsies going around sing- 
ing.” 

“What would a Spanish gip be doing over 
here ? ’ ’ 

“Why, she ’d come over to sing, of course. 
Was the girl pretty?” 

“She was a bird!” Ned declared with enthusi- 
asm. “Say, why don’t all girls dress like that? 
They ’d be a great deal prettier.” 

“Why don’t boys dress like Continental sol- 
diers with nice George Washington cocked hats 
and powdered hair? They wouldn’t be half so 
uninteresting then ! ’ ’ retaliated Raymonde. ‘ ‘ Oh, 
Ned!” she added, laughing, “here’s a way to 



There, framed in shrubbery, stood the singer herself 










































































THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 15 


raise money to buy the Castle and get my Pa- 
triots J Hall! I ’ll go from house to house, riding 
Vic and dressed up in this flag, and I ’ll sing pa- 
triotic songs.” 

To illustrate how she would cause showers of 
coin to pour down, the merry lassie began to sing 
once more, as the girl of Old Glory had sung it on 
the wall, the anthem of the Star-Spangled Banner. 
The D ’Arcy woods bordered the road on the right 
hand, and Raymonde’s voice, bird-like and sweet 
and joyous like herself, went lilting through the 
trees. 

“0 say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave 

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?” 

In the stillness that followed the musical ques- 
tion, a sound came back like an answer from out 
the woods. 

“Ned, did you hear that? Somebody ’s call- 
ing.” 

The cry came again. Raymonde responded 
with a long clear, * ‘ Oh — ooh — ooh ! ” It brought 
another answer, not a call this time, but the sound 
of singing. Skylarks and nightingales ! What a 
voice that was! High, higher, the liquid notes 
floated, then sank almost to silence, then trilled 
upward again. 

Not a word of the song could they catch, but 
Ned exclaimed: 

“That ’s the girl! That ’s her voice!” 


16 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

The tirra-lirra ended in a light snapping of 
twigs and rustling of leaves. The elders and 
ruddy-fruited sumac bushes parted suddenly, and 
there, framed in shrubbery, stood the singer her- 
self. 


CHAPTER II 


AN EXILE 

T HERE she stood on the bank high above the 
roadside, a song-bird of rare plumage. This 
girl, no older than Raymonde herself, wore a skirt 
of bright blue plush bordered with yellow, a scar- 
let apron adorned with white bands embroidered 
with yellow flowers, a white linen blouse with 
puffed elbow-sleeves, and a black velvet bodice 
with scarlet lacings. A piece of white linen 
served for a head-dress, and around her neck were 
chains of red coral beads. She was carrying a 
tambourine. Her dark hair fell over her shoul- 
ders in two long braids, and the face that it 
framed held the promise of real beauty. The fea- 
tures were finely molded, with a strong hint of 
wilfulness, to be sure, about the mouth and chin; 
but the charm of that girlish face lay most of all 
in its witchery. 

“Oh, isn’t she lovely!” whispered Raymonde 
to her brother. “I ’m going to find out what she 
is. I ’m going to speak to her.” She rode Vic- 
tory up the grassy slope to meet the stranger, who, 
on her part, was gazing with questioning interest 
17 


18 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

at the rosy, bright-haired girl mounted on the 
black horse and arrayed in the Stars and Stripes. 

‘ i I wonder if she understands English, ’ ’ thought 
Raymonde. “I’ll try her any way.” Smiling 
her good will, she tested the maiden with, “How 
do you do?” 

This caused the girl’s great dark eyes to light 
up suddenly with playful fire. Raymonde re- 
ceived the merriest smile in response, and a musi- 
cal voice made answer: 

“ Buon giorno, Signorina ” 

The Italian “good day” fell upon uncompre- 
hending ears ; but Raymonde understood the 
“Signorina” and turned to her brother, who had 
followed her up the slope. 

“Ned, she ’s Italian.” 

“Mais non , Mademoiselle! Pas du tout!” the 
dark-eyed girl contradicted. 

“Why, now you ’re speaking French. Are you 
a French girl, then?” 

The perplexing damsel shook her head. After 
this an outburst of Swedish or even of Russian 
would not have surprised Raymonde ; but the girl 
made answer in English. 

“I ’m lost! That ’s what I am. I ’ve been 
wandering around in these woods for hours and 
hours, I ’m sure. I thought I ’d never find my 
way out. What ’s this road? Where does it 
go?” 

Raymonde was too much taken aback to think 


AN EXILE 19 

of answering these questions. Instead, she ex- 
claimed : 

“I thought you were a Spanish gipsy at first! 
What are you really ?” 

“I ’m really lost,” the girl answered. Then 
she went off into a sudden gale of laughter. 

4 ‘ But you ’re not a real gipsy, nor anything like 
that?” 

“No, I ’m plain American, like you.” 

“Look here!” Ned broke in. “Were you sing- 
ing and dancing at that house just for a lark?” 

1 ‘ Oh, dear ! Did you see me?” Dark brunette 
though the girl was, the hot blood glowed in her 
cheeks. 

“Do you mean to say you ’re dressed up like 
this just for fun?” cried Raymonde. 

“Yes! Isn’t it dreadful of me! Oh, but it ’s 
been such sport!” 

Ned and his sister burst out laughing in their 
turn. 

“But who are you?” asked Raymonde. 
“What ’s your name? Please tell me!” 

“Oh, no! I can’t tell you my name! I ’m too 
much ashamed of myself now,” replied the blush- 
ing culprit. “Tell me your name instead, and 
why you ’re dressed up in that flag.” 

“My friends and I have just made it, and I ’m 
taking it up to the carpenter to see about the 
flagstaff. But I won’t tell you my name till you 
tell me yours . Tell me, please do!” 


20 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“No, no, no! I won’t !” The little witch of a 
masquerader shook her head emphatically at each 
“No,” looking prettier than ever as she did so. 

Ned was artful. 

“You said you were lost,” he reminded her. 
“If you ’ll tell us where you live, we ’ll show you 
the way home.” 

“I don’t know where I live,” returned this be- 
wildering young person. “I mean I don’t know 
the name of the road where our place is. I ’ve 
only been here two days.” 

Light began to dawn upon Raymonde. In the 
excitement of meeting the strolling singer, she 
had forgotten Ned’s report of the “no trespass- 
ing” signs. 

“Do you live in the Castle?” she demanded. 

“Yes. Wish I didn’t !” 

“Why?” 

“Because I hate it there. That ’s why I ran off 
to play singer. I was sick and tired of having 
nothing to do. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, 
though. My governess ’ll have a fit! You see I 
got lost.” 

Was this dark-eyed, tricksy elfin of a girl daugh- 
ter to that “ogre of selfishness,” who, Ned’s sister 
had assured him, was the owner of the Castle? 
Perish the thought! 

“Are you one of the D’Arcys?” asked Ray- 
monde. 

“I ’m Madelon D’Arcy,” was the reply. 


AN EXILE 21 

‘ ‘ There! I ’ve told you my name. Now tell me 
yours/ ’ 

“Raymonde Heathcote. ’ ’ 

“ ‘ Raymond/ Why, that ’s a boy’s name!” 

“Not with an ‘e’ on the end of it. My father ’s 
named Raymond, and I ’m named for him; only 
I ’m Raymond with an ‘e,’ because I ’m a girl. 
And this is my brother, Ned. Now the intro- 
ducing ’s over, so do tell me what you ’re meant 
to be, dressed up like this. That ’s the darlingest 
costume I ever saw in my life. Is it gipsy or peas- 
ant or what!” 

“I ’m an Italian peasant, Signorina,” replied 
Madelon D’Arcy. “I wore this at a fancy-dress 
garden party that my aunt gave for the Red Cross 
this summer. I was an Italian singing girl. I 
went around singing, and people would drop 
money into my tambourine. And to-day I was so 
lonely, I just had to do something ! I ’m out here 
all alone with Mademoiselle Trenaye, — she ’s my 
governess, — and it ’s — deadly. Well, this after- 
noon, Mademoiselle was unpacking and putting 
things in order, and I suddenly thought what fun 
it would be to put on my peasant dress and go 
around to the different houses and sing, and make 
people wonder who the Italian girl was. Nobody 
knows me here yet, of course. So I dressed up 
on the sly, when no one was looking. Wasn’t it 
awful of me! I went down the road where all 
those big houses are — ” 


22 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Fairview Avenue,” Ned put in. 

“Is that its name? Well, I stopped at a great 
big white house first — ” 

“The Harrisons’,” said Ned. 

“Was that where you saw me?” returned 
Madelon, with a little pout. “I saw somebody 
like you, looking over the fence.” 

Ned had to plead guilty to a moment’s loitering 
to watch from afar. “You came running out as if 
you were afraid of them,” said he. 

‘ ‘ I was ! ’ ’ she owned, laughing. ‘ ‘ They tried to 
give me money, and of course I could n ’t take any 
as I wasn’t singing for the Red Cross this time. 
I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to do! 
But it went beautifully at first. There were just 
a few girls out on the lawn when I went in there, 
and I danced and sang for them. I made up the 
dance. I never danced it before, but I suppose 
they thought it was a peasant dance. Then some 
ladies came out to watch me and made me do it all 
over again, and they wanted to pay me for it. 
They did n’t know what to make of it when I shook 
my head. And then they began to ask me what 
my name was and where I came from; and of 
course I couldn’t tell them what wasn’t true, so 
I just kept saying: ‘Buon giorno, Signora! Buon 
giorno, Signorina!’ That ’s about all the Italian 
I know, except my song. Then I ran off as quick 
as I could for fear they ’d find me out. I went 
down the road ever so far before I dared to go 


AN EXILE 


23 


into another place. But finally I came to a house 
where there were just some children playing 
around, and I had a lovely time singing and danc- 
ing for them. After that, though, I had the most 
awful fright! I tried a house where the lady 
began to talk to me in Italian. I could n ’t under- 
stand a word she said!” 

‘ ‘That must have been Miss Dexter,” laughed 
Raymonde. i i She ’s terribly learned ! What did 
you do?” 

“Oh, I just made bows, the way I thought an 
Italian peasant would bow to a great lady. Like 
this.” Madelon dropped a magnificent curtsy. 
“And I backed out of the gate, bowing. Then I 
tore down another road. I did n’t care to see any 
more of that lady.” She laughed merrily over 
her own discomfiture, and went on. “The road 
brought me out by the woods, and I was sure they 
were our own woods, so I thought I ’d go home 
through them. I decided I ’ d done enough singing 
by that time. Besides, I wanted to find our pond. 
The gardener says we have one and there ’s a trail 
through the woods that takes you to it. What are 
you laughing at?” 

The mention of D’Arcy Pool had caused Ray- 
monde to exchange a mischievous glance with her 
brother. 

“Here are some fish from your pond,” said 
Ned, holding up the string of trophies, which he 
had forgotten. “I ’m a poacher, but I ’m honest. 


24 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


I ’ve been fishing in your pond this afternoon. 
I ’m very sorry. I didn’t see your trespass sign 
till I was through.” 

“Is there a trespass sign? I didn’t know it.” 

“There are two, but there never used to be 
any,” Ned explained. “And all the fellows 
around here fish in D’Arcy Pool. I won’t break 
the law any more, though.” 

“Oh, but please do,” urged Madelon, hospitably. 
“My aunt won’t mind. I ’ll ask her to have that 
silly old sign taken down, and you can come and 
fish in the pool whenever you like.” 

‘ ‘ Why, thank you ! ’ ’ exclaimed the grateful fish- 
erman, adding: “Please let me give you to-day’s 
catch. I ’ll carry them up to your house for you, 
and you can have them for your supper.” 

“But don’t you want them?” asked Madelon. 
“You ’d better keep them — you ’ve had all the 
work of catching them.” 

“Catching them ’s the only part I care about,” 
answered the sportsman. “And we ’ve had 
dozens of fish suppers out of your pond. It ’s 
time you had one. Please say you ’ll take 
them. ’ ’ 

So the young lady of the Castle was prevailed 
upon to consent, which she did with pretty gra- 
ciousness. Then she told her new friends how 
she had been lost in the woods and, unable to find 
the pool, had wandered for what, in her growing 
alarm, she had imagined to be hours. 


AN EXILE 


25 


“ You must have gone round and round,” said 
Ned, “and that was what made you think you ’d 
gone so far.” 

“I ’m sure I don’t know how I went!” ex- 
claimed the wanderer. “I was all tangled up and 
I thought I ’d never get out! I didn’t dream I 
was near the road again till I heard somebody 
singing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ It was you, 
was n’t it, Raymonde ? Oh, was n’t I glad to hear 
you! So then I called and you answered.” 

“And then you began to sing,” said Raymonde. 
“My, hut you can sing, can’t you! You don’t 
know how pretty your voice sounded, coming 
through the woods.” 

“I felt more like crying than singing till I heard 
you,” Madelon confessed. “It ’s fun to be lost 
at first, hut when it lasts too long, it ’s dreadful! 
I wish I could stay lost, though, now I ’ve you 
for company. I ’m scared to pieces about going 
back to face Mademoiselle.” 

“Will she he angry with you?” 

“Won’t she! French people know how to 
scold! Well, I suppose I ’ll have to go back some 
time, and the longer I stay away, the worse scold- 
ing I ’ll get ! So I might as well skip home and 
have it over. Oh, dear! Can’t you come home 
with me? I sha’n’t feel half as scared then.” 

“I ’d love to,” began Raymonde. “Have we 
time, Ned? It ’s not very late, is it?” 

“Oh, please come, both of you!” begged the 


26 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


runaway with the none too easy conscience, as 
Ned took out his watch. 

‘ * Half past five. I don’t look in very good 
shape for making calls,” said he, aware that 
contact with the banks of D ’Arcy Pool had not im- 
proved his attire. “But I wish I could take the 
scolding for you.” 

“So do I,” agreed Madelon, looking more 
elfish than penitent. 

Raymonde would gladly have stood ten scold- 
ings to spare so bewitching a culprit, but the late- 
ness of the hour forbade a visit to the Castle. 
“We ’ll take you home, anyway,” said she. 
“Aren’t you tired? You’ve walked so much. 
Wouldn’t you like to ride home on my horse?” 

Madelon had been stroking Victory’s glossy 
neck and velvet nose, while they talked. She was 
tired and gratefully accepted the invitation. So, 
when they had descended to the road, Ned lifted 
his sister from the saddle and put the weary girl 
on the horse, in Raymonde ’s place. 

“You don’t need to lead him. I know how to 
ride,” said Madelon. “I ’ll make him walk and 
then we can all keep together. Oh, I wish I had 
a horse of my own, just like this beauty! I ’m 
going to write to Aunt Edith and tease her to let 
me have one. I ’ll tell her I simply must have a 
horse if I have to be exiled to Siberia.” 

“You don’t call Ridgemont ‘Siberia’!” cried 
Raymonde. 


AN EXILE 


27 


“Yes, I do! And I call it being exiled to be 
sent off to the country with a governess, torn 
away from my friends and Aunt Edith and my 
school and everything I care about.” 

i ‘ But have n ’t you any family, any brothers or 
sisters, or any one?” 

“No; I haven’t anybody in the world except 
Aunt Edith D ’Arcy, and now she ’s gone and got 
married. She ’s Mrs. Morgan now. She ’s off 
on her wedding journey. And when she gets 
back, she ’ll go on living in New York, and I ’ll 
have to stay up here all winter, because the stupid 
old doctor said I ought to live in the country for 
my health. I wrote to Auntie this morning and 
told her it was n’t going to do me any good to die 
of homesickness ! Oh, I think doctors are the silli- 
est, stupidest people ! Don ’t you ? ’ ’ 

Ned and his sister both laughed. 

“No, I think doctors are the nicest people in 
the world,” replied Raymonde. “My father ’s a 
doctor.” 

“Oh — is he?” Madelon looked confused. “I 
didn’t know — I didn’t mean — ” 

“You ’ll just love my daddy when you know 
him,” declared Raymonde. “He ’s the dearest ! 
He ’ll have to be your doctor, now you ’re out 
here.” 

“Hold up, old girl! Don’t boom trade quite so 
hard!” laughed her brother. 

“But of course she ’ll have to have Daddy,” 


28 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

Raymonde persisted. “ Everybody has him. 
And I ’m sure he ’ll tell you to ride horseback, 
Madelon. He thinks it ’s such good exercise.” 

“Well, then, your father *s the doctor for me!” 
announced Madelon. 

As they went up the road, the brother and sis- 
ter did their best to cheer and encourage the 
“exile to Siberia” by telling her of all the de- 
lightful chances for outdoor sport that Ridgemont 
afforded. Madelon quite forgot, as she listened, 
that a scolding was in store for her ; but she awoke 
to her unpleasant fate as they reached the crest 
of the hill on which stood the Castle — or, as she 
called it, ‘ 4 that old prison.” 

A few steps more brought them to the high- 
pillared gateway of the gray stone mansion. 
Through this gate came flying an excited French 
maid, who clasped her hands in relief at beholding 
her young mistress safely returned at last. 

“Oh, Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle! Ma cherie! 
Mon ange !” she fairly shrieked. A rapid torrent 
of French followed, poured out by the hysterical 
maid and answered by the runaway. Then Made- 
lon turned to her friends. 

“They Ve been nearly frightened to death 
about me. Mademoiselle Trenaye and the gar- 
dener and the chauffeur are all out looking for 
me. I ’m glad Mademoiselle did n’t take the road 
Z was on. I suppose the gardener ’s fishing for 
me in the pool.” 


AN EXILE 


29 


“Well, your governess ’ll be so glad to find 
you ’ve come home again, she ’ll probably forget 
to scold you at all, ’ ’ suggested hopeful Raymonde. 

But Mademoiselle Trenaye’s pupil did not take 
this rosy view of the case. 

“Come up to the house with me, just a min- 
ute, can’t you!” Madelon pleaded. 

“Well, just a minute, then,” agreed Raymonde, 
unable to resist. But, as they were entering 
through the imposing gateway, Madelon, looking 
back, uttered a little scream. 

“There ’s Mademoiselle now! Oh, misery me! 
She looks as cross as a grizzly bear!” 

An exceedingly agitated lady was hastening 
back from an all-too-late quest down Fairview 
Avenue. Hastily the rider dismounted. 

1 1 1 think — maybe — you ’d better not come up to 
the house after all,” faltered poor Madelon. 
“ You ’d better go now before she gets here. But 
do come and see me soon, Raymonde. Can’t you 
come to-morrow!” 

“I ’ll come to-morrow afternoon, and I ’ll bring 
my three chums with me. They ’re the j oiliest 
girls!” 

“Oh, do! That’ll be fine! Good-by! Good- 
by!” Madelon shook hands hastily with her 
escorts. Her poor little fingers were cold with 
nervousness now, yet she declared: “I ’m so 
glad I got lost! If I hadn’t, I shouldn’t have 
found you . Don’t forget to-morrow, Raymonde. ’ ’ 


30 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Here are your fish,” said Ned. In that mo- 
ment of impending tragedy it was all he could 
think of to say. He handed the reluctant maid 
his slippery donation to her young lady’s supper; 
and he and Raymonde had a parting glimpse of 
Madelon D’Arcy fleeing up the path to her door, 
while her panting attendant followed, gingerly 
holding the string of fish at arm’s length. 

Mademoiselle Trenaye, breathless too, darted 
an accusing glance at the hoy, the girl, and the 
horse, loitering outside the gate. 

“She looked as if she thought we ’d kidnapped 
Madelon!” declared Raymonde, when the wrath- 
ful governess had entered in pursuit of her 
charge. 

Ned appeared deeply concerned. 

“I hope her governess won’t give her an awful 
calling down for vamoosing the ranch like that. 
I wish we could help her out, poor little thing! 
But I don’t see how we could do any good.” 

“Oh, no! We ’d only make that Mademoiselle 
madder than ever ! ’ ’ said his sister. ‘ ‘ Poor girl ! 
I hate to think of her getting scolded just for hav- 
ing a little fun when she was so lonely! She 
didn’t mean any harm at all. But I don’t see 
how anybody could be hard on her, do you?” 

“No, I don’t,” answered Ned, emphatically. 

He helped his sister to remount Victory. Then 
they parted: and the boy trudging home and the 
girl riding on to show her flag to the “other 


AN EXILE 


31 


veteran” both carried with them the picture of a 
lovely, dark-eyed peasant maiden, with bright 
blue skirt and scarlet apron, velvet bodice and 
coral beads, who was really the little lady of the 
Castle and as lonely as an exile in Siberia. 


CHAPTER III 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 

T HE Castle had been to Raymonde, ever since 
her little girl days, the palace of the Sleep- 
ing Beauty. Six years ago, during a children’s 
picnic in the D’Arcy woods, the spirit of the ex- 
plorer had awakened in her, leading her to slip 
away from her playmates and trespass on the Cas- 
tle lawn. Stealing across the sward and almost 
believing herself at the gate of fairyland, she had 
reached the gray-stone mansion and gazed up at 
the tall windows, trying in imagination to pene- 
trate the closed shutters to the mysteries of the 
rooms within. Her best-loved fairy story had 
come into her mind, and suddenly, with a wave 
of Fancy’s wand, she had turned the silent Castle 
into the Palace of the Sleeping Beauty and her 
sunny-haired little self into the Prince who was 
to awaken with a kiss the Princess Brier Rose 
from her hundred years of slumber. Scaling the 
green terrace, she had pretended that she was 
climbing the palace stairway, past sleeping pages 
and maids of honor ; and when she pressed her lips 
to a honeysuckle spray she was really, of course, 
32 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 


33 


kissing the enchanted fair one on her golden couch. 
But when the play was over, the Castle door was 
still locked fast, the shuttered windows still closed 
against this little lover of fairy lore; and as the 
years went by the lonely mansion still remained a 
place of mystery. Now, however, with the coming 
of Madelon D’Arcy, fancy had turned into fact in 
one point at least: the palace did hold a lovely 
princess. 

Faithful to her promise, Raymonde paid the 
Castle a visit, the afternoon following her encoun- 
ter with the dark-eyed singing girl. She arrived 
without her friends, the ‘ 4 patriot mother” having 
suggested that four guests at once might be con- 
sidered too much for a first call. 

“Now, little lady, I ’ll have to drop you here 
and hurry on,” said Dr. Heathcote to his daugh- 
ter, as he stopped his runabout at the D’Arcy 
gate. 

With a “Good-by, Daddy, dear,” Raymonde 
sprang to the ground, and, while her father drove 
away, she entered her childhood’s wonderland. 
The old silence and air of loneliness reigned over 
the place, as if the enchanted slumber of so many 
years enfolded the Castle still; so it appeared to 
her as she walked up the driveway and passed 
under the port-cochere. She ascended the broad 
steps, guarded by two stone lions, which, in days 
gone by, had seemed to her almost alive. She 
rang the door-bell and waited. There was no an- 


34 THE, GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

swer. She gave a second ring and a third; but 
nobody came. 

“Why, this is like playing the Sleeping Beauty 
over again,” she thought. “It looks as if the 
Castle were really asleep.’ ’ 

Remembering a smaller door at the side of the 
house, Raymonde went to it and found it slightly 
ajar. She knocked repeatedly, but, as no one an- 
swered, she said to herself : 

“Now, why should n’t I be the Prince, and walk 
in and wake the palace up?” 

She pushed the door wider. It opened into a 
large room, and she boldly stepped inside, with 
no more thought of being unwelcome than had the 
stream of sunlight that entered with her and, 
flooding the dimness, chased away the shadows. 
She found herself in what she knew must be the 
library, for the walls were lined with tall book- 
cases. 

“Nobody here,” said she, and passed on into 
the hall, which was lighted by a Gothic window 
of stained glass, — amber, pale green, and rose, 
and amethyst. No doubt the broad staircase led 
up to the princess’s bower. Would the prince 
find her quicker by ascending or by seeking her 
in the other rooms below? 

Parting a pair of heavy portieres, Raymonde 
peeped into the drawing-room, where the old-fash- 
ioned luxury of fifty years ago seemed to her eyes 
like royal magnificence. The gilded furniture was 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 35 

upholstered in blue brocaded satin. From the 
frescoed ceiling a great glass lustre hung like a 
mass of icicles. But no princess was hiding there, 
and, with ears alert for a musical voice, Raymonde 
invaded the dining-room. More wonders still! 
But she scarcely heeded the richly carved old ma- 
hogany furniture and the family portraits on the 
walls, for she saw in front of the bay window with 
its diamond panes of colored glass, a grim senti- 
nel standing on guard. She beheld a knight 
armed cap-a-pie, with polished steel corselet and 
crested helmet, like a champion come back from 
the days of chivalry. 

* * Hello! A stuffed knight in armor !” ex- 
claimed the prince. ‘ ‘ Or one of the palace guards, 
sound asleep! Wake up, Sir Lancelot, and tell 
me where your princess is hiding away!” Ris- 
ing on tiptoe, Raymonde peeped through the bars 
of the knight’s vizor. “Yes, you ’re nothing but 
a wooden dummy inside ! Poor old Sir Lancelot ! 
Never mind, you look very fierce and grim out- 
side . I should think Madelon would have the 
creeps, eating her dinner with you looking on.” 

Bidding the knight farewell, with a friendly pat 
on his steel shoulder, Raymonde pursued her 
quest. The door that she next opened led into a 
narrow hall. Here she found what no enchanted 
castle would be complete without, a winding stair- 
way ascending where the wall of the house bowed 
out into a tower. 


36 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“I never dreamt my old fairy play would come 
true like this,” she said to herself, as she climbed 
the spiral flight. “Here goes the prince up the 
winding palace stair to the enchanted bower where 
the Princess Brier Rose lies.” Reaching the 
upper hall, she knocked gently at the nearest door. 
There was no reply. “Prince, you ’re a goose!” 
she exclaimed. ‘ ‘ How do you expect the Sleeping 
Beauty to answer, till you ’ve waked her up with 
a kiss?” 

She opened the door and entered the room. It 
lacked the princess ; but it contained so much that 
was entrancing that Raymonde could not help 
stopping to gaze about her, spellbound with de- 
light. She found herself in a bewitching little 
boudoir, newly furnished with just what should 
captivate a girlish heart. On the wall-paper Jap- 
anese cherry-blossoms were in flower against a 
background of silvery green; and the same pink- 
tinted blooms were sprinkled over the pale green, 
gauzy curtains draping the bay-window and over 
the puffy cushions heaped on the window-seat. 
The chairs were covered with silky-satiny stuff of 
delicate green in harmony with the walls. So was 
the divan, which looked so deliciously comfortable 
that it ought to have made the most wakeful prin- 
cess drowsy. But if my lady preferred music to 
dreams, there in an alcove stood a piano, its ma- 
hogany case shining like a mirror. Would she 
read or write? Behold a bookcase and a desk, 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 


37 


both of the same deep-red wood, one filled with 
the most tempting looking volumes, the other 
laden with a silver-mounted writing-set. Ray- 
monde ’s eyes roamed about the room up to the 
pictures in their gilded frames and down to the 
polished floor where a velvety rug was spread. 
The little tea-table, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, 
took her captive at once. It stood as if ready for 
afternoon tea, with a set of flowered Dresden 
china cups and saucers upon it, a pretty little cop- 
per tea-kettle too, and, to match it, a chafing-dish 
that made her long to play cook on the spot. But 
the onyx clock above the fireplace told her that 
it was high time for the prince to press onward 
and find where the princess was hiding. 

Her royal highness’s parlor opened into an- 
other room. Raymonde peeped through the half- 
open door and drew a deep breath of rapture. 
Before her was Madelon’s bedroom; and if the 
Sleeping Beauty of fairy lore had been its owner, 
she could have asked no better fortune than to 
spend her famous hundred years in a place so en- 
chanting. Pink morning-glories clambered over 
the walls, twining in and out of a golden trellis. 
Rosy curtains softened the light from the win- 
dows ; and the pink and golden tints were reflected 
back from the antique mirror hanging above the 
gilded dressing-table. One fleeting glance around 
this bower, and then Raymonde ’s gaze rested upon 
what charmed her most. Tiptoe, tiptoe, she ad- 


38 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


vanced toward the brass bedstead with its rose- 
colored canopy. There she saw what was loveli- 
est of all. There lay the Princess Madelon. 

“Why, she really is the Sleeping Beauty !” 
thought Raymonde. Softly she stole to the bed- 
side. Yes, Madelon was really asleep. And was 
she not just like the enchanted princess, as Tenny- 
son had sung of her in his “ Day Dream ’ ’ ? 

Love, if thy tresses be so dark, 

How dark those hidden eyes must be ! 

The prince’s words came back to her now, for 
over the pillow where that pretty head nestled, 
Madelon ’s hair swept in a torrent of dark shadow. 

“The prince kissed the princess when he said 
that,” thought Raymonde, “and I ’d like to kiss 
you — you look so sweet ! But it would be wicked 
to wake you up. It might frighten you. ’ y 

Yes, it would be wicked to waken her, hut the 
prince could not help gently stroking a lock of 
the dark brown hair, so silky fine. Light was the 
touch, yet Madelon stirred in her sleep, and pres- 
ently there came a sigh or two. Then a drowsy 
murmur told that the princess was coming home 
from the Land of Nod. She turned on her pillow; 
then the long, black lashes lifted. They fell again, 
but another soft little sigh showed that Madelon 
was only half in dreamland. Raymonde bent over 
her and kissed her cheek. 

A touch, a kiss, the charm was snap’t, just 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 


39 


as the poet sang. The great dark eyes opened 
wide, and Madelon stared in wonder, beholding 
Raymonde laughing and fallen on one knee by the 
bedside, and hearing a merry voice exclaiming: 

“ Awaken, fair one! I love thee more than my 
lifer 

‘ * Oh ! Oh ! Who ’s there ! Ooh ! Gracious ! 
how you scared me!” were the fair one’s first 
words. Then she hurst out laughing. “Why, 
Raymonde! It’s you!” 

Raymonde bowed low with her hand on her 
heart. 

“The prince’s quest is ended!” she said. “He 
has found the Sleeping Beauty and awakened her 
with a kiss.” 

“I should think you did awaken me! You 
nearly frightened me out of my senses,” laughed 
Madelon. “But how did you ever get up here? 
You came so softly I didn’t hear you at all.” 

“I came to the palace and found it in an en- 
chanted slumber,” replied Raymonde. “The 
lords and ladies were all asleep, and the lord 
grand master of the door -hell was the soundest 
asleep of anybody. But I found a portal un- 
locked and I entered. I wandered through the 
palace, seeking the princess. I climbed the wind- 
ing stair, and at last I found the peerless pearl, 
the Sleeping Beauty herself!” 

“What nonsense are you jabbering!” ex- 
claimed Madelon. “Am I the Sleeping Beauty, 


40 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


and are you the prince? Well, I ’m glad you 
didn’t wait a whole hundred years with coming. 
Why didn’t you bring your friends with you?” 

‘ 4 Mother thought four of us coming down on 
you in a bunch would be too much. The others ’ll 
come next time. They ’re crazy to know you.” 

“But you don’t really mean nobody came to 
open the door for you?” 

“Your Royal Highness, I vow it is the solemn 
truth.” 

“What a shame!” cried Madelon. “I should 
think the waitress had gone to sleep ! The idea of 
her leaving you to find your way up alone!” 

“I thought you would n’t mind my sneaking up 
by myself,” said Raymonde. She scrambled up 
from her lowly position and seated herself so- 
ciably on the bed. “What ’s the matter, Made- 
Ion? You ’re not ill, are you?” 

“No! But I ’m mad! I ’m furious!” 

“Gracious! What about?” 

“Mademoiselle ’s been cruel, just cruel. She 
wouldn’t let me go with Valerie Van Arsdale on 
a motor trip, just because I went out in that 
crazy peasant dress yesterday. Valerie ’s my 
most intimate friend, and she and her mother came 
here this morning in their car, and they wanted me 
to go with them. It would have been only for just 
two nights. But that mean old Mademoiselle,” 
continued this disrespectful pupil, “said Aunt 
Edith would never let me go after my running off 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 


41 


that way, yesterday ! She said Auntie ’d be ter- 
ribly shocked when she heard what an unladylike 
thing I ’d done. Mrs. Van Arsdale told her she 
was sure I ’d never do it again if she ’d only let me 
go, and I told her so too. But Mademoiselle 
would n’t give in.” Madelon scowled darkly over 
her governess’s perversity. 

“It ’s a shame you can’t go!” sympathized 
Raymonde. “I don’t wonder you ’re in the 
dumps. But, never mind, we can have lots of fun 
right here, all of us girls together.” 

4 ‘ That won’t be the same as being with Valerie,” 
said Madelon, ungraciously. “Oh, I think it ’s 
too hateful I can’t go ! Valerie ’s the only person 
in the world who really loves me, except Aunt 
Edith.” 

Raymonde looked at her reproachfully. 

“Why, Princess! Why, Sleeping Beauty! 
How unkind of you to say that when you ’ve just 
had a prince kneeling before you, vowing he loves 
you more than his life. Very well, then, I ’ll have 
to say it all over again ! ’ ’ Down she dropped on 
her knee. “Fairest of the fair, I vow a second 
time I love you more than my life, and — ” 

“What are you up to any way, rattling on about 
the Sleeping Beauty! I wish you ’d talk sense!” 
Those great black orbs of Madelon ’s were trying 
their best to flash haughty resentment at the 
world that had treated her so ill; but a pair of 
deep blue eyes, sparkling with fun, laughed back 


42 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


at her, and the attempt to play the tragic muse was 
a failure. 

A trim figure in a natty cap and apron appeared 
just then in the doorway that parted the bedroom 
from the little parlor. Raymonde recognized the 
French maid. 

4 4 Oh, go away, Coralie! Don’t come fussing 
around me again!” Madelon burst out crossly; 
and as the maid meekly retired, the spoiled prin- 
cess exclaimed: 4 4 Coralie thinks I’m going to 
starve, because I was too mad to eat my lunch 
to-day. Oh, bother! I hear her poking around 
in the other room. She ’s hoping I ’ll call her 
back and say I ’m hungry. But I won’t eat till 
I ’m ready and I won’t go down-stairs till I ’m 
ready! And you can just tell her that, and 
Mademoiselle, too!” 

4 4 All right, I ’ll tell her you ’re on a hunger 
strike,” laughed Raymonde, going toward the next 
room. 

4 4 Tell her to go away and stay away ! ’ ’ Madelon 
called after her ; but it was a much softened mes- 
sage that Raymonde delivered to the now almost 
tearful Coralie. 

4 4 Don’t worry about Miss Madelon. She ’s had 
a nice nap. She ’ll feel better now.” Raymonde 
wisely closed the door behind her as she spoke. 

“ Bonheur!” exclaimed the thankful maid. 
“La pauvre petite! She is so fatiguee. And no 
food since her breakfast ! She eat not her lunch, 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 43 

she is so sad ! She say she will descend no more, 
she will eat no more! Nevaire! Nevaire!” 

“Well, I feel as if 1 hadn’t had any food since 
my breakfast,” remarked Raymonde. “I could 
hardly eat my lunch either, I was so excited about 
coming here, and I Ve been starving ever since I 
saw that darling tea-table!” Her eyes turned 
longingly to the copper chafing-dish and the Dres- 
den china cups and saucers. 

“Mademoiselle has hunger? I bring you some 
chocolate, quick, quick!” began the kind-hearted 
French woman. 

Raymonde interrupted her, laughing. 

“No, no, I didn’t mean that, of course! But 
see here ! Does Miss Madelon cook things on this 
chafing-dish?” 

“No, Mademoiselle, she employ it nevaire.” 

“Well, it ’s high time somebody employed it,” 
declared Raymonde. “Coralie, I know how to 
make Miss Madelon eat. If you ’ll bring me up 
the things I need, I ’ll cook her the nicest little 
lunch right here in this room. And of course she 
can’t refuse to eat it after I ’ve gone and fixed it 
up for her.” 

If Raymonde had offered to hire herself out as 
kitchen-maid, Coralie could hardly have looked 
more amazed. 

“You, Mademoiselle! You cook! Mais, non, 
my dear young lady. 1 cook ze lunch. You shall 
direct me what I shall prepare.” 


44 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“If you ’ll boil me three or four eggs hard, I ’ll 
be very much obliged,” said Raymonde. “But 
I ’m going to do the rest, myself. Miss Madelon 
likes eggs, does n’t she? I ’ve learned how to do 
creamed eggs on toast, and I want to do it for 
the fun of it, don’t you see? I love to cook, and 
I ’m wild to fuss over that duck of a chafing-dish. 
I promise not to spill over one bit. I ’ll be very 
careful. ’ ’ 

As soon as Coralie comprehended that this ec- 
centric young demoiselle looked upon cooking as 
a delightful kind of play, she was ready to trans- 
port all the provisions in the Castle larder up to 
the “boudoir,” anything to coax that wilful little 
mistress of hers out of her whim of self-starva- 
tion. 

“I want a cup of milk, too,” said Raymonde, 
“and a little flour and butter and some salt and 
pepper. And, oh, Coralie ! could we light the fire 
in this room? I must have some dear, little, 
weeny slices of toast to put the eggs on; and it 
would be such fun to make the toast right here 
over the fire.” 

Coralie promised : 

“ Certainement, Mademoiselle, we toast him 
here. ’ ’ 

“Aren’t you ever coming back?” called a petu- 
lant voice from the other room. 

Raymonde returned to the imperious princess 
and, perching on the bed once more, chattered 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 


45 


blithely away, till she had set the victim of Made- 
moiselle Trenaye’s “cruelty” laughing. Then, 
when the sound of footsteps in the next room told 
her that Coralie was back again, she took Made- 
Ion’s hand with princely gallantry, saying: 

“Now, your Royal Highness, let me escort you 
to yon banquet hall. Arise, beloved!” 

“You goosie, what are you after!” cried Made- 
Ion. “Let go! I ’m tired and I have a head- 
ache.” 

“And / have a headache cure . It ’s in the ban- 
quet hall.” 

“You didn’t send Coralie to get me anything 
to eat, did you!” Madelon demanded. “For I 
sha’n’t touch it!” Then, as a crackling sound 
came from her boudoir, “What ’s that snapping! 
Why, I smell smoke ! Coralie must have gone and 
lighted the fire, and it ’s as hot as ginger in here 
anyway. I hope you don ’t mean to cure my head- 
ache by roasting me.” 

No more coaxing was needed. The ill-treated 
princess sprang up in her silk kimono, thrust her 
feet into Turkish slippers, and hurried to her lit- 
tle parlor. One astonished glance revealed the 
preparations for luncheon. The obliging maid 
had brought in a table as a field for the culinary 
operations, and on it stood a tray containing sev- 
eral hard-boiled eggs and all the other require- 
ments, with a few additions of her own, a pot of 
chocolate, a plate of small cakes, and a dish of 


46 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


sliced peaches. Coralie, herself, was on her knees 
before the hearth, with the brass poker in her 
hands. 

“ Pardonnez moi, Mademoiselle , je vous en 
prie!” implored the maid, with mock penitence. 

“Now, don’t you say a word to Coralie,” said 
Raymonde. “She ’s obeying the prince’s orders. 
1 ’m the head of the house. I thought you might 
be hungry after a hundred years without a bite, 
and we ’d better celebrate the day with a party. ’ ’ 

“Well, Prince, you certainly do seem to think 
you ’re the head of the house!” remarked Made- 
Ion. “But you and Coralie need n’t have worried 
about my being hungry. Valerie brought me out 
a box of candy, and I ’ve eaten about half of it 
already. I really don’t care for anything now.” 

“Don’t you? Well, I do. I ’m starving,” said 
Raymonde. “I ’m going to make myself some 
cream sauce to pour over the eggs. Now then — 
first I melt the butter.” Coralie having lighted 
the chafing-dish lamp, the prince dropped a table- 
spoonful of butter into the pan, while the maid 
tied her own apron around the waist of the royal 
cook. 

“Why, I didn’t know you were going to do it 
yourself!” exclaimed Madelon. “Do you hon- 
estly know how to cook on that thing? What 
fun ! ’ ’ 

“I should think I ought to know how,” Ray- 
monde answered, stirring the sizzling butter. 


THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 


47 


“I Ve had to do all my own cooking for the last 
hundred years, while I was waiting for the Sleep- 
ing Beauty to wake up and keep house for me. 
The prince is a grand chef ! Thank you, Coralie — 
that apron ’s fine ! ’ 9 

“ I will make the toast for you, Mademoiselle,” 
began the maid, putting a slice of bread on the 
toasting-fork. 

“No, I ’m going to make the toast! Give that 
fork to me,” said Madelon, headaches and heart- 
aches alike forgotten. 

Coralie enveloped her young lady in another 
apron and pinned up the sleeves of her kimono, 
lest the eager cook should set herself afire, as she 
did her first piece of toast. Presently a plateful 
of little crisp, brown squares was ready, and when 
the slices of egg had been laid upon them, and 
Raymonde had poured over them her creamy 
sauce, piping hot — behold a dish fit for an em- 
press ! 


CHAPTER IV 

THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 

T HE girls sat down together at the little tea- 
table to enjoy their culinary triumph; and 
Raymonde declared that Dixie, Tommy, and Peter 
Pan would be 4 4 grass green with envy,” if they 
could see the prince and princess at their feast. 

“I never tasted anything so good in my life!” 
exclaimed Madelon, when she had sampled the 
creamed eggs. “Prince, you ’re a fine cook.” 

“But I never cooked in a princess’s parlor be- 
fore,” said Raymonde. “Madelon, I ’m simply 
in love with this room. You say you don’t like 
the Castle, but don’t you love this part of it?” 
“I don’t like anything out here — in Siberia.” 
“Hush up! Don’t call Ridgemont that mean 
name again or you sha’n’t have any more sauce on 
your egg, and you know you want some more,” 
said Raymonde, and Madelon, holding out her 
plate, admitted it, saying: 

“Well, I do think my little sitting-room is 
pretty. Aunt Edith had this and my bedroom 
furnished all over new for me, so I ’d feel better 
about living out here. This tea-set and the kettle 

48 


THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 49 


and the chafing-dish are my wedding presents.” 

“Yours!” laughed Raymonde. 

1 ‘ Well, they were Aunt Edith's really. A 
friend of hers gave her the whole thing for a wed- 
ding present ; but she got so many more afternoon 
tea-sets, she didn't know what to do with them 
all. She had hundreds of presents. So I begged 
her to give this set to me, and she did. Wasn't 
she a darling? Oh, dear! Why did she need to 
go and get married? It 's spoiled everything. 
Before, it was just us two together, and nobody 
else. She had only me, and I had only her. I 
think it was too bad of that Mr. Morgan to go and 
fall in love with her and take her away from me. 
I 'm mad at him ! And I know what he thinks 
about me. He thinks I 'm spoiled. I heard him 
say so. He calls me ‘Madcap,' instead of Made- 
Ion, because I 'm such a fly-away wild head!” 

Madelon looked as if she was rather proud of 
this nickname and the distinction of being a “fly- 
away.” As a matter of fact, Mr. Morgan was 
right when he had charged her with being spoiled. 
Spoiled she was and no mistake. Aunt Edith had 
been a loving and indulgent, hut neither a firm 
nor a very wise guardian; and her ward, arrived 
at wilful, moody, self-assertive fourteen, was prov- 
ing herself altogether too much of a handful for 
Mr. Morgan’s bride to manage! Obliged to con- 
fess that Madelon rode over her head, Aunt Edith 
had found in her marriage a good excuse for slip- 


50 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

ping off the responsibility, and had resigned her 
charge to the firmer rule of a highly recommended 
governess. 

Mademoiselle Trenaye peeped slyly in through 
the doorway while the tete-a-tete luncheon was in 
progress; but Raymonde was too much absorbed 
in telling and Madelon in hearing about the Girls 
of Old Glory and their school, Netley Hall, for 
either of them to notice her step outside the 
boudoir, or see her as she spied upon them. Ma- 
demoiselle had gone forth upon her errands that 
afternoon, leaving a thunder-cloud of a pupil be- 
hind her : she had returned to find Madelon a sun- 
beam, and, having heard from Coralie what magic 
had wrought the change, she was wise enough not 
to disturb the peaceful scene, but, smiling, quietly 
withdraw. 

“I must have been starving without knowing 
it !” declared Madelon, when the banquet was over. 

“I feel as if I ’d been to a regular birthday 
party,’ ’ said Raymonde, as they rose from their 
tea-table. “Oh, I forgot to tell you!” she added, 
when they had settled themselves on the window- 
seat, among the cosy cushions, “Peter Pan’s 
birthday comes Saturday after next. We ’re go- 
ing to have a picnic for her, and you must come 
to it. She ’ll be fourteen. She ’s the Old Glory 
Baby. I was fourteen the twenty-first of May. 
How old are you?” 


THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 51 

Madelon hesitated before she answered, “Four- 
teen.” 

“When ’s your birthday?” 

“The nineteenth of August,” Madelon replied 
in a low voice. She was looking down. Suddenly 
she raised her head and added, “It ’s not my real 
birthday; but I keep it because it ’s the date of 
the day I came to live with Aunt Edith.” 

“But why don’t you keep your real birthday?” 

“Because I don’t know when it comes.” 

Raymonde stared at her in amazement. 

“You don’t know your own birthday?” 

“No. I don’t know anything about myself. I 
can hardly remember anything before the earth- 
quake. ’ ’ 

“The earthquake!” echoed Raymonde. 

“Yes. The great California earthquake. I 
was in it. I was saved from it. That ’s all I 
know. ’ ’ 

Raymonde was too young to remember the wave 
of horror which had swept over the whole nation 
in the days of that tragedy of the Pacific coast, 
nearly ten years before; but she had heard people 
from the West describe the terrible earthquake, 
which, with its sequel, the no less terrible fire, had 
laid so great a part of San Francisco waste. And 
Madelon had been in that city then, a little child, 
in the midst of that dreadful danger, when houses 
had fallen and flames had raged ! 


52 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“You were in it, Madelon, in that awful earth- 
quake ?” 

“Yes. That ’s why I ’ve been left all alone. 
Aunt Edith is not really my aunt. She only took 
me because she was sorry for me. Madelon 
D’Arcy is not my real name, either. I Ve only 
been called that since I came to live with Aunt 
Edith.” 

“But don’t you know what your real name is?” 
asked Raymonde. “Can’t you remember that , 
even?” 

“No, I can’t remember anything about it. But 
they say when people used to ask me my name, 
I ’d always answer, ‘Thithy Fay.’ I lisped very 
badly, but Aunt Edith is sure I must have been 
trying to say ‘Cissy’ and that ‘Cissy’ was short 
for Cecilia. So she thinks my real name must be 
Cecilia Fay; but she does n’t like the name Cecilia, 
so she called me ‘Madelon,’ for a very dear friend 
of hers in France. And of course I had to be 
‘D’Arcy,’ because that was Auntie’s name before 
she married.” 

“Oh, do tell me all about it!” Raymonde im- 
plored, for Madelon appeared to her now a being 
more wonderful and mysterious than any princess 
in a fairy tale. “How were you saved from the 
earthquake? Tell me everything, please! I ’m 
so excited!” 

“I don’t remember anything about the earth- 
quake, myself,” said Madelon. “Aunt Edith and 


THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 53 


the doctor say I had a shock, and that and all the 
things that happened afterwards, seeing new peo- 
ple and being in new places, made me forget every- 
thing. I can only tell yon what Grandma Grant 
used to tell me about the earthquake, and how 
she found me. She wasn’t really my grand- 
mother, though, any more than Aunt Edith is 
really my aunt. She was living in San Francisco, 
but she was very lonely all by herself, so she was 
just going out to her son on the ranch, when the 
earthquake came. It happened very early in the 
morning, Grandma said, when most people were in 
bed and asleep. It must have been terrible. The 
walls of houses came crashing down, and crowds 
of people rushed out into the streets, but ever so 
many were killed, and lots more were hurt. 
Grandma was n’t hurt, but she was nearly out of 
her mind with fright. She ran out-of-doors, and 
wandered, she didn’t know where, till she found 
me. I was in the arms of a woman who was 
nearly fainting. She ’d dropped down on the 
ground, and people were gathering around us, 
trying to help us. Grandma was one of the first 
to reach us, and she lifted me out of the woman’s 
arms, and told her she ’d hold her child for her. 
But the woman cried out to her to take me and 
keep me — she could n ’t hold me any longer. And 
I was n’t her child, — she did n’t know who I was ! 
Then she tried to tell something about the house 
falling. Grandma was sure she meant the house 


54 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


I ’d been taken from, for I was hurt — I ’d bnrt my 
head! But the woman fainted before she could 
tell any more about the house or about me, and 
they carried her away, out of the crowd, and 
Grandma was left with me in her arms. I was 
wrapped in a quilt ; I must have been snatched out 
of my bed. And I seemed to be stunned ; I acted 
as if I were half asleep. I just moaned a little — 
that was all. Aunt Edith thinks, too, that I must 
have been taken from the house that the woman 
said had fallen, and I must have been the only one 
saved. Somebody — that woman herself, maybe — 
must have rushed in and carried me out of the 
ruins. ’ ’ 

Raymonde saw a look of suffering come into 
Madelon’s face. The dark eyes, with their trou- 
bled gaze, seemed trying to see back into the past 
that had all been blotted out. 

‘ 4 What is it, Madelon?” she said. “Does it 
make you too unhappy to tell me about it 1 ” 

“I was thinking about my mother,’’ the girl an- 
swered, “and my brother. I can remember just 
enough to know that I had a mother and a brother 
before the earthquake. And I think I can remem- 
ber my father too.” 

“Oh, Madelon! And you lost them all — 
then?" 

“Yes,” she answered with quiet hopelessness. 
“It must have been then. If they had been saved 
too, I should n’t have been alone with that strange 


THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 55 

woman. And nobody ’s ever come to claim me. 
I ’ve lost every one. I ’m all alone in the world !” 

“Oh, Madelon!” It was all Raymonde could 
say, but her arm stole around her friend’s neck in 
silent sympathy and compassion. 

‘ ‘ They tell me, ’ ’ said Madelon , c 1 when I woke up 
out of that queer daze I was in, I kept crying for 
my mother. Isn’t it strange I can’t remember 
anything at all? Aunt Edith says I ought not to 
talk about the earthquake or think about it. It 
makes me so unhappy. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Don’t talk about it, then. You mustn’t if it 
troubles you so. Only — would you mind telling 
me what happened to you afterwards?” 

“No; I want to tell you. Grandma Grant 
could n’t stop to see what became of the woman — 
she was pushed right along with the crowd. And 
the fire broke out right after the earthquake. She 
said you could see it sweeping nearer and nearer. 
Oh, it was awful ! And she went on and on, carry- 
ing me in her arms, till she was so tired she nearly 
fainted herself. But she wouldn’t give me up 
to anybody. She felt as if I belonged to her by 
that time. She says I was very hard to take care 
of, though, after I woke up. I was quite ill, but 
she didn’t dare let people know, for fear some- 
body would put me in a hospital and she ’d lose 
me. Besides, Grandma ’s afraid of hospitals and 
doctors. We had to sleep out-of-doors. Hun- 
dreds of people had to, for weeks and weeks ; their 


56 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

homes were destroyed by the earthquake and by 
the fire. Do you know, it almost seems as if I 
really do remember the fire ! I can shut my eyes 
and seem to see the sky all red with flames and 
black with smoke. ’ ’ 

Raymonde shuddered. 

“How terrible it must have been! And you 
were hurt and ill. Madelon, I should think you ’d 
have died! You poor, little lost thing! And no- 
body could tell who you were?” 

“No, and I could n’t tell any one about myself. 
I was so frightened and excited after I woke up, 
it was no use trying to find out anything from me. 
And I was such a little tot ! I did n’t talk plainly 
a bit, and I lisped so that Grandma could hardly 
understand me at all. ’ ’ 

“You don’t exactly lisp now,” said Raymonde, 
“but you have the prettiest little soft way of pro- 
nouncing your ‘s’s.’ I love to hear you. But go 
on, tell me what happened next.” 

“I don’t know how long we lived there out-of- 
doors,” continued Madelon, “but we got away 
from San Francisco at last and up to Oakland, and 
finally Sam found us. Sam is Grandma’s son. 
He had come to look for her. Grandma would n’t 
give me up, and they couldn’t find anybody who 
knew anything about me, so Sam took us both back 
to Wyoming with him, to the ranch. It ’s a great, 
big sheep ranch. Mr. Thornton owns it, but 
Sam ’s the head man on it. And what do you 


THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 57 


think I did as soon as I got there*? They had a 
picture on the wall of Sam when he was a little 
boy ; and the minute I saw it, I climbed on a chair 
to reach it, and I kissed it and called it ‘Bubba’! 
They were sure I meant my brother. And when- 
ever I ’d see a picture of a little boy, I ’d try to 
kiss it and I ’ d call it ‘Bubba.’ But I never could 
tell anybody what my brother’s name was, and I 
was so queer at first they could hardly coax me 
to say a word. I think it must have been a long 
time before I really woke up. ’ 9 

‘ ‘ Were they good to you at the ranch*? Were 
you happy there?” 

“Oh, yes, I loved it there. And I loved my dear 
old Grandma. I love her still. But it seems so 
funny now to think how I used to run about bare- 
foot all summer ! I only wore shoes and stockings 
in cold weather. And everybody called me 4 Fay . 9 
I never went to school, there was no school 
near enough. Belle taught me to read, — she ’s 
Sam’s wife, — but that was all the teaching I had. 
I just ran wild most of the time. I trotted about 
everywhere, and I loved to watch the men ‘ running 
in’ the horses. The ranch horses were regular 
bucking broncos. I had lots of pets too, a pony 
and puppies and pet lambs and chickens and a 
darling fawn. But our baby wolf was the cutest 
pet of all.” 

“You had a wolf for a pet!” cried Raymonde. 
‘ ‘ Good gracious me ! Did n ’t he bite you *? ” 


58 


THE GIRLS OP OLD GLORY 


“He was too young to bite hard,” replied the 
wolf’s playmate, “and he was only a coyote. I 
lived on the ranch four years, and then Aunt 
Edith came out there for a visit, with Mr. Thorn- 
ton’s sister. She took a fancy to me, and she 
thought it was a shame for me to grow up out 
there on the ranch and not have a good education. 
She was lonely, too. Her father and mother were 
dead, and she had no brothers or sisters, and she 
wanted a little girl to pet. So she asked Grandma 
to let me come and live with her. Grandma said 
she ’d be lonely without me, but she thought I 
ought to have the chance ; so she let me go. And 
I think Belle was glad to get rid of me. I used 
to bother her life out. I was homesick for the 
ranch at first, and I used to cry for Grandma at 
night. But Aunt Edith gave me such beautiful 
dolls, and there were so many new things to see 
that I didn’t stay homesick long. Now I feel as 
if the ranch were all a dream. My life ’s so dif- 
ferent now. I can hardly believe I used to be 
little ‘Cissie Fay’.” 

“Madelon D’Arcy, you ’re more exciting than a 
book!” declared Raymonde. “Go on. What did 
you do next ? ’ ’ 

“Aunt Edith took me to Europe very soon, and 
we traveled all over.” 

‘ ‘ Did you 1 My, what fun you must have had ! ’ ’ 

“It wasn’t all fun. I had governesses re- 
marked the globe-trotter. “We lived abroad most 


THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 59 


of the time till the war came. W e were in France 
when it broke out and we had to refugee.’ ’ 

“Madelon, you ’re more exciting than ten 
books!” exclaimed envious Raymonde. “You 
didn’t see any battles, did you?” 

“No; but we saw lots of soldiers; and crowds 
and crowds of French and Belgian refugees. Lots 
of them had had their homes burned. I felt so 
sorry for them. I thought we must have looked 
like that after the earthquake. Auntie and I refu- 
geed back to America ; and then I went to school 
for the first time — in New York. That was how 
Valerie Van Arsdale and I got to be such chums. 
But then last spring I was ill, and the mean old 
doctor said I ought to be in a fine, bracing air, 
and that Ridgemont was just the right place. He 
said I ’d studied too hard and gone to too many 
parties and sat up too late at night, and that I 
must live in the quiet of the country this winter. 
Just as if the city and parties and fun could hurt 
you ! But I did study awfully hard. I had to, to 
keep up with the girls of my age, because I ’d be- 
gun lessons so late. Well, they sent me out here, 
and here I am ! And I don’t know what I ’d do, if 
I had n’t found you , Prince.” 

“Oh, I ’m so glad I started out with the flag 
yesterday ! ’ ’ said Raymonde. “ If I had n ’t, we ’d 
not have found each other at all, Princess.” 

“Your flag was a beauty!” said Madelon. 
“I ’ll have to show you my flags some day. The 


60 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


quilt that I was wrapped up in when I was saved 
from the earthquake is all made of flags, silk flags 
put together like patchwork. It has the flags of 
all nations on it. Aunt Edith says it ought to be 
in a museum, it ’s so odd ! I ’m going to keep it 
always. It ’s the only thing I have left that may 
really have belonged to me when — when I had my 
mother. ’ 9 

i ‘ Don’t you remember anything about your 
mother, Madelon?” asked Raymonde. “Oh, but 
I forgot ! It troubles you to talk about it.” 

Madelon, however, seemed to find comfort in 
telling all that she could to her new confidant. 

“I have mind pictures,” she said. “I don’t 
know what else to call them. I remember my 
mother rocking me and singing to me. But I can ’t 
remember her face at all. I only know it was my 
mother. I remember walking beside her in a 
beautiful garden, too. And I ’m sure I was on a 
ship once. I was riding on a man’s shoulder, look- 
ing down at the deck and the water. I ’m sure the 
man must have been my father. I know I didn’t 
dream it. I know it was a real ship, because when 
I went to Europe with Aunt Edith, as soon as I 
was on board the steamer, I felt just as if I ’d 
been there before.” 

‘ 4 And your brother V 9 asked Raymonde. “You 
said you remembered him, too.” 

“Oh, yes; I have two mind pictures of my 
brother. I remember his drawing me in a little 


THE GIRL WHO HAD FORGOTTEN 61 

cart. He was prancing like a horse. But I re- 
member best of all the stairs that did n’t end. We 
must have been in a tower, I think. We were 
climbing the stairs together, holding hands. He 
wore a white suit. I can see that white suit now. 
I wonder whether we ever reached the top of the 
stairs. If we did, I don ’t remember it. It seems 
just as if they ’d kept on and on forever. And 
isn’t it queer? That mind picture keeps coming 
back to me when I ’m asleep. I dream about it 
when I ’m very tired. My brother and I climb 
and climb, but we never reach the top. And when 
I try to think back and see if I can’t remember 
more about myself before the earthquake, it ’s just 
like climbing those stairs. I try and try, but I 
can’t get any farther!” 

i ‘ What a queer mind picture to have,” said 
Raymonde. “ Where could that tower have been, 
with all those stairs? I wonder,” she added 
thoughtfully, “how 1 ’d feel if I couldn’t remem- 
ber anything about myself, if I wasn’t really 
Raymonde Heathcote, but somebody else. If — ” 

“If you were really a poor little Cissie Fay,” 
said Madelon, “with no mother, nor father, nor 
brother? If you were left all alone like me?” 

“Oh, I could n’t live without Mother and Father 
and Ned!” declared Raymonde. Then the girl 
who was so rich in love kissed the girl whom the 
earthquake had robbed of every one, and nestled 
her own soft cheek against her lonely friend’s. 


62 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Madelon,” she said, “you ’ll have to take my 
mother and father for yours, now, and let Ned be 
your brother, too. And — I ’ve never had a sister, 
and I Ve always been lonely without one. Let ’s 
he sisters!” 

“Let ’s!” cried Madelon. “And never mind if 
we are only make-believe sisters : we ’ll love each 
other just as much as if we were real ones, won’t 
we?” 

“Yes, and we ’ll love each other always 


CHAPTER V 


KING EQUINOCTIAL 

T HE equinoctial storm was king of the coun- 
tryside, and a most brutal and heartless 
tyrant he showed himself, in the estimation of the 
Girls of Old Glory. Sweeping, swirling, bellow- 
ing, roaring, he descended and paid Ridgemont a 
four days’ visit, leaving devastation in his path. 
He tore down branches on the D’Arcy estate, and 
he wrecked the Heathcotes , hedge of goldenglow 
and turned their flower beds into little swamps. 
Worst of all, he completely spoiled the plans for 
Petronella’s birthday picnic; for, when he said 
goodby, or pretended to, he left threatening clouds 
and damp woods behind him. But one thing he 
could not do, no matter how violently he laid siege 
to D’Arcy Castle and the Heathcote home. He 
could not keep the new-made friends apart. Plow- 
ing along in rubber boots, Raymonde, with Lee, 
Tommy, and Pet, had twice come tramping up to 
the Castle; and the D’Arcy motor-car had twice 
halted at the Heathcotes’ door. Mrs. Heathcote, 
having already adopted Raymonde ’s three school 
chums as extra daughters, now called Madelon her 
fifth daughter ; and Peter Pan, who had fallen in 

63 


64 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

love with the “princess” at first sight, decided 
that it quite made up for the disappointment about 
the picnic, to have Madelon arrive early on the 
birthday morning and spend a day and a night. 

“What ’s all this orating and flag-waving for? 
Have the patriots just repelled a horde of in- 
vaders from our territory?” inquired Major 
Heathcote, stepping out on the piazza shortly after 
the guest of honor had made her appearance. 

Madelon was mounted on the piazza balustrade, 
waving the new flag and vowing that she would 
live for her country in peace and die for it in war, 
and be true to the Girls of Old Glory forever. 

“We Ve just made Madelon an honorary mem- 
ber of the Old Glory Girls,” explained Ray. 
“She can’t be a regular member, because she 
doesn’t belong to our class; but, as an honorary 
she can come in for all our fun. Now, Grand- 
father, you must help us to think up some nice, 
patriotic thing to do, some way to serve our coun- 
try. We ’ve made a flag, and now we ’re stuck. 
We can’t think of anything else except patriotic 
picnics, and having picnics isn’t exactly serving 
your country, is it? Now, Grandfather, don’t look 
so mischievous. We ’re really in earnest about 
it.” 

“Oh, yes, Major Heathcote, please think of 
something patriotic for us to do,” begged Lee. 
“Something that really is work , you know, some- 
thing that ’ll keep us busy.” 


KING EQUINOCTIAL 65 

“The biggest thing you can think of,” Tommy 
urged. 

“And the hardest,” said Peter Pan. 

The major frowned reflectively and stroked his 
white moustache. Finally he said : 

“Let each one of you try to make herself the 
very best kind of citizen she can. ’ ’ 

On five expectant faces disappointment was 
manifest. 

“Why, Grandfather, what a poky thing to tell 
us to do!” complained his granddaughter. “Be 
the best kind of citizens that we can, — why, that 
just means be good.” 

“Dear me! You are a spoilt child,” returned 
the old gentleman. “Here I suggest the biggest 
and hardest thing I can think of, the work that *11 
keep you busiest and last the longest, and you 
call it ‘poky’ ! Very well, I ’ll make no more sug- 
gestions. If you consider it poky to be good citi- 
zens, go ahead, each one of you, and choose your 
own line of patriotic work. Come! quick now!” 
he added, taking out his watch. “I ’ll give you 
just two minutes to settle it.” 

“I ’ll be a Red Cross nurse,” answered Lee, in- 
stantly. 

“You grabby old thing!” cried Raymonde. “7 
was just going to choose that! Well, I ’ll go into 
partnership with Daddy, then. I ’ll be a Red 
Cross doctor, and have a patriotic hospital. 
You ’ll have to be a nurse in it, Dixie. And I ’ll 


66 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


have a grand time ordering you about. What ’ll 
you do, Peter Pan?” 

“W-w-w-wait till I think!” stammered Pet. 
“Oh, I know! I ’ll have a school for patriots. 
And I ’ll make my pupils learn the D-d-d-Declara- 
tion of Independence by heart, and take a solemn 
vow to love their country as long as they live, and 
never be traitors like B-B-Benedict Arnold, 
and — ” 

“Don’t take up all the time with what you ’re 
going to do, Peter!” Tommy interrupted. “7 ’m 
going to wear a button.” 

“Collar or cuff ?” asked the major. 

“Patriotic, with the eagle on it, holding the flag 
in his bill. I ’m going to found a nation-wide 
Patriots’ League, and we ’ll go on strike to get 
more school holidays. We ought to keep the 
birthdays of all the Presidents, instead of just 
Washington’s and Lincoln’s. And then — ” 

“Whoa, there, Tom! Give Madelon a chance,” 
Raymonde broke in. “Speak up, Madelon! 
What ’ll you do for your country?” 

“If I were a boy, I ’d turn soldier,” replied 
Madelon, promptly. 

“Oh, Madelon! And get killed!” exclaimed 
Pet. 

“I wouldn’t mind dying for my country,” she 
returned, with spirit. 

“Well, you can’t be a soldier, as you ’re a girl,” 
said Lee. “So what will you do?” 


KING EQUINOCTIAL 67 

‘ ‘ I can train myself to be brave, so I ’ll be ready 
to face danger if I have to,” answered Madelon, 
earnestly, as if she was taking the major’s words 
more seriously than her companions. “I love 
courage better than anything else in the world. 
It ’s glorious to rush into danger and risk your 
life. I hope I ’ll have a chance to risk mine some 
day. I ’m going to practise not being afraid of 
anything and learn to have lots of presence of 
mind. Then if we should get into the war, or I 
should be in another earthquake, I ’d be able to 
save lives. I ’m sure, to be a life-saver is a good 
way to serve your country.” 

“ Excellent!” said the major. 4 1 Courage lies 
at the root of all good citizenship. And don’t for- 
get, Miss Patriot, that there ’s more than one 
kind of courage.” 

“If you want to practise life-saving,” said Ned, 
who had joined them in time to hear Madelon ’s 
choice, “come over to the Kintakoy and I ’ll tum- 
ble in for you. You ’d better have a look at the 
freshet, ’ ’ he told the girls. ‘ ‘ Dad says he does n’t 
need his car now, so I ’ll take you over to the mill 
dam if you say so. That ’s a bully place to see it 
from. It ’s some freshet, I tell you!” 

“And Madelon hasn’t seen Kintakoy Falls 
yet,” said his sister. “It must be splendid after 
the rain!” 

All Ridgemont was talking of the wild behavior 
of Kintakoy Creek. Swollen already by a sum- 


68 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


mer of heavy rains, it had been turned by the 
equinoctial storm into a raging torrent. Ned’s 
invitation was accepted with alacrity. Though 
the clouds were threatening another deluge, the 
girls and Mrs. Heathcote crowded into the ma- 
chine, and were presently speeding along a beau- 
tiful, woody road from which they had frequent 
views of the hurrying, brawling freshet. The ride 
ended at last in a spot where through the trees 
one heard a dull roaring. A short walk through 
dripping woods brought the party out at Kinta- 
koy Falls, as Ridgemont people still called what 
was now in reality only a rather unusually high 
and picturesque tumble of the water over a mill 
dam. Indeed this bold leap of the Kintakoy was 
worth seeing. No gentle stream now swept over 
the barrier, but a furious torrent, bearing along 
uprooted trees and wreckage of foot-bridges. 
Steep banks hemmed in the flood, and the waters 
that swelled the mill-pond rose high above the 
dam. It was holiday at the mill. While the 
freshet lasted the water had to be cut off from 
the wheel, leaving the whole volume of the swollen 
current to plunge over in one unbroken sheet ; and 
the Kintakoy, a stream gone mad, flung itself like 
a foaming cataract down into as wild a pool as 
ever seethed and whirled. They found it dizzy- 
ing to watch the frenzied waters and the spin of 
those frothing eddies at the foot of the dam. Up 
from the pool rose a cloud of spray, through which, 


KING EQUINOCTIAL 69 

one caught glimpses of partly submerged, jagged 
rocks. 

“See how the driftwood spins about !” ex- 
claimed Lee. 4 ‘ Those are regular whirlpools 
down there !” 

Madelon gazed, fascinated. “Could a person 
possibly go over those falls and not be killed ?” 
she asked suddenly. 

“Sure thing,” replied Ned. 

“Not really! How?” 

“In an aeroplane.” 

“Oh, pshaw! Fly over! Well, of course! 
But if you tumbled in and were swept over the 
dam, down into that awful pool where those 
wicked-looking rocks are, could you possibly come 
out alive?” 

“Well, you might experiment,” he suggested, 
waving his hand invitingly toward the plunging 
cascade. “You ’re working to win a medal for 
bravery. Here ’s your chance.” 

“You promised you ’d tumble in for me, ’ ’ Made- 
Ion reminded him. But Ned seemed in no hurry 
to do so, and his sister was urging them all to go 
down to the foot of the dam, declaring, “It looks 
so much bigger from down there.” 

They descended a steep, slippery path to the 
whirling waters below; and Lee cried out that it 
took one’s breath away, the rush and roar and the 
cloud of spray rising where the cascade fell with a 
shock. 


70 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


‘ ‘ Come, girls! We ’ve admired the falls long 
enough/ ’ said Mrs. Heathcote, as a raindrop 
struck her forehead. “It ’s beginning to shower 
again. If we don’t run to cover, we ’ll get a 
drenching. ’ ’ 

Scrambling up the path once more, they looked 
back. Madelon was still standing by the edge of 
that seething pool. Ned and Raymonde ran back 
to bring the laggard along. A log came sweeping 
over the dam and was flung into the whirlpool 
below. 

‘ 1 Getting ready to jump in and give first aid to 
that log?” Ned inquired. 

“Does n’t it look just like a person drowning!” 
exclaimed Madelon. 

“No, not a bit!” laughed Raymonde. “Wake 
up, Princess, and come along!” 

“What was the matter, little dreamer?” Mrs. 
Heathcote asked Madelon, when they were all at 
the top of the path. 

“I was training myself not to mind it,” was 
the surprising answer. 

“Why, you don’t mean you mind the falls!” 
cried Raymonde. 

“Yes. I mind everything like that. Don’t tell 
Ned. He ’d think I was such a silly. But I hate 
to see things falling. I don’t like the roar of 
water either. I can’t bear anything that roars 
or crashes. I hate thunder. I ’ve always been 
like that, too, ever since I can remember. Aunt 


KING EQUINOCTIAL 71 

Edith thinks I must have heard the walls come 
crashing down in the earthquake. And though I 
can’t remember that at all, it frightens me still to 
hear loud noises, or watch things falling down. 
But I ’m going to train myself not to mind such 
things any more. I told Major Heathcote I was 
going to train myself to be brave — and I 
will 

Madelon was given no more chance to develop 
her nerve on that excursion, however ; for the visit 
to Kintakoy Falls ended in a mad scamper back 
to the motor-car, as a heavy shower pelted down, 
destined to become a steady rain. The rest of 
Peter Pan’s birthday had to be spent indoors. 
Toward evening the downpour ceased; but this 
was only another of King Equinoctial’s tricks. 

“It ’s going to clear! We can have the picnic 
to-morrow,” exulted Raymonde at the beginning 
of the birthday dinner. 

“Here it comes again! Picnic to-morrow? No 
such luck!” groaned Tommy, at the close of 
the feast, as lightning flared through the win- 
dows. 

A sharp crash of thunder followed, causing 
Madelon to wince and then set her teeth. Still 
more blinding flashes were succeeded by yet more 
deafening roars. Next came a rattle of hail, then 
another deluge of rain. 

“The equinoctial ’s coming back for your birth- 
day party, Pet,” said Dr. Heathcote. “He ’s 


72 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


roaring, 4 Many happy returns !’ Only they’re 
his returns, not yours.” 

An hour or so later, while the storm raged 
fiercely again, the five girls were gathered in the 
bay-window recess of the wide, square entrance 
hall, ready to enjoy delicious thrills and creeps. 
Lee, a genius in the art of ghost-stories, had prom- 
ised to harrow up their nerves with the tale of a 
“Hant,” as she called the spook, who, her south- 
ern mammy had declared, walked nightly in a cer- 
tain old Virginia homestead. Dixie had just in- 
formed them that “a pale, weird light was seen 
to glimmer from window to window,” when Ray- 
monde cried out: 

“Oh, my lantern! I forgot to light it!” 

“Oh, don’t bother with the thing to-night!” 
counseled Tommy. “Leave it alone. Nobody ’ll 
be out in this storm. Go ahead, Dix.” 

“No, wait, Dixie. I must light my lantern,” 
Raymonde insisted. “Somebody might be out, 
and it would be awful to get lost in the dark a 
night like this ! Come up with me, Madelon, and 
see my lighthouse. Did you know I was a light- 
house keeper?” 

“Let ’s all see how the storm looks from her 
lighthouse,” proposed Lee; and the four guests 
followed Raymonde up-stairs. 

The lighthouse turned out to be the round win- 
dow in the attic gable. There Ray kept a lan- 
tern with a great reflector. 


KING EQUINOCTIAL 73 

Daddy has to go out at night so often to his 
patients that I started lighting this lantern for 
him, to show him the way home,” she explained, 
striking a match. i ‘ And he says he ’s never been 
wrecked off this coast yet. But now I light it 
every night, because people say it looks so cheery 
to see the light on our hill. Besides, you know, 
some time somebody might get lost in the dark, 
and then my lantern would show there was a house 
right here to come to.” 

“ Wouldn’t you think we were in a real light- 
house on a rock in the ocean, with the breakers 
dashing up around us!” cried Lee. “I ’m sure 
this rain comes in waves." 

“ Would n’t you like to see Kintakoy Falls 
now!” said Tommy. “It must be bigger than 
ever. It ’s rained oceans since we were there.” 

“I ’m freezing!” Peter Pan said, shivering. 
“Let ’s go down-stairs again where it ’s warm, 
and hear the rest about Dixie’s ‘Hant.’ ” 

The girls found parlor, library, and hall alike 
deserted, when they returned to their favorite 
nook. Ned had retired to the top story, “to fuss 
over his beloved old wireless telegraphy,” as his 
sister remarked. The major was dozing the eve- 
ning away in his own comfortable den up-stairs. 
Dr. Heathcote was absorbed in his den, the office, 
and now his wife had ascended to the store-room 
to bring down more blankets for her guests, for 
the night was chilly. Their absence produced just 


74 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


the right atmosphere of loneliness and made the 
time a most tempting one for spooks to walk. 

“Now, honey, it ’s your turn to give us the 
shivers/ ’ said Lee to Raymonde, when the weird 
Virginia legend had been brought to its tragic 
close. “Think up something horribly creepy. 
Oh, horrible, oh, horrible, most horr-rr-rible!” 

While Raymonde was trying to conjure up a 
blood-curdling tale, the girls pressed their faces 
to the chilly window-panes and strained their eyes 
to see out into the night. All nature seemed to be 
rocking and reeling, as the trees swayed and 
groaned in the gale. The rain drove furiously. 
The wind had been howling and moaning and 
screeching; but there came a momentary lull as 
if the storm were taking breath. In it a new 
noise was heard, faint, yet exciting the girls more 
than all the witch-like voices mingled in the tem- 
pest. 

“What ’s that?” cried Dixie and Pet together. 

“It sounds as if there was some person outside 
there!” exclaimed Madelon, shrinking back most 
unheroically. 

“Dixie, it ’s your Hant come all the way from 
Ole Virginny to scare you,” said Raymonde. 

The next moment they heard a thud, as if some 
one had stumbled against the steps, and the girls 
all started with one accord, as, stamp, stamp, the 
sound of a heavy tread followed. 

“Somebody ’s coming up the steps,” cried 


KING EQUINOCTIAL 75 

Tommy, and Peter Pan cowered behind the more 
valiant Dixie. 

The light from the bay-window, shining ont on 
the piazza, illuminated a broad space, and the 
startled girls sprang to their feet as, suddenly, 
out of the blackness beyond, a bulk loomed up. 
This was too much for Madelon, the would-be 
heroine whom no danger could daunt. She and 
rattle-pated little Peter Pan had fed their imagi- 
nations too high that evening. Both out-screeched 
the storm witches and, leaving their companions 
to the mercy of the apparition, darted up-stairs 
in mad panic. 


CHAPTER VI 


A PRISONER OF WAR 

M ADELON and Peter Pan were in headlong 
flight, but the other girls stood their 
ground. Witch, warlock, or storm-driven trav- 
eler, whatever their visitor might be, the figure 
that had appeared outside the window was bend- 
ing beneath some burden. 

“It ’s a man!” exclaimed Lee. “Come away, 
girls! He may be a tramp or a burglar!” But 
loyally she stayed beside Raymonde and Tommy, 
who refused even then to show the white feather. 

“Burglars don’t come up to the front door,” 
scoffed Tommy. 

“He only wants to get out of the storm,” said 
Raymonde. “Why, what ’s that thing on his 
back ! ’ ’ 

Before she had time to think of opening the 
door, the man stepped up to the window. The 
light from the hall fell upon the stranger and re- 
vealed the nature of the bundle that he carried 
slung over his shoulder. From out the dark wrap- 
pings a little white face appeared. The man 
brought his own face close up to the window-pane. 
76 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


77 


4 ‘Can you take this little boy in?” he shouted, 
making his voice faintly heard above the renewed 
roaring of the gale. “I We got to get him in 
somewhere, out of the rain and cold.” 

“Of course! Wait till I open the door!” Ray- 
monde shouted back, and she flew to unbolt it. 

She threw the door wide, a cold gust sweeping 
in as she did so ; and the tempest-driven wayfarer 
hurried into the hall. 

By this time one of the fugitives from the appa- 
rition had come to her senses. Madelon had ral- 
lied in the hall above. It flashed over her that by 
fleeing she had lost a golden opportunity to train 
herself in valor. 

“A fine kind of a soldier I am!” she exclaimed 
in disgust. “Come down again, Pet! We 
must n ’ t be such idiots ! ’ ’ 

But Peter Pan’s flight took her up yet another 
staircase. Madelon, however, ran down again in 
time to see a young man, carrying a child upon his 
back, step from the storm and blackness outside 
into the genial warmth and brightness of the hall. 

Beyond question, the stranger was the most 
storm-battered being that any of the girls had 
ever encountered. Hatless and in his shirt- 
sleeves, he was dripping wet and mud-besplashed ; 
he must have gone through some violent experi- 
ence, for he had an ugly cut on his forehead from 
which the blood had been streaming down the side 
of his face. His little comrade was a child of five 


78 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

or six years old, wrapped in a man’s coat, evi- 
dently belonging to the stalwart young fellow who 
had carried him in from the storm. So deathly 
pale was the round, childish face that the startled 
girls would have wondered whether the little one 
was living at all, had not the closed eyelids lifted 
just then, showing a pair of big blue eyes, dazed 
and wandering in their look, as if their owner was 
hardly conscious. 

Lee, the future Red Cross nurse, turned white 
to the lips at the sight of the stranger’s wounded 
brow. Raymonde uttered a sharp little cry. 

4 ‘ Oh, you ’re hurt ! And the poor little boy ! 
Is he hurt too? Oh, what is it?” 

The young man was too intent upon finding im- 
mediate help for the child he had brought in, to 
answer the girls’ frightened questions. 

“This is Dr. Heathcote’s, isn’t it?” he asked 
hastily. 

“Yes; I ’ll call him right away! Go into the 
room there — to the fire. You must be frozen.” 
Leaving the other girls to show their unknown 
guest into the warm library, Raymonde flew to 
summon her father; but had to wait, quivering 
with impatience, till the doctor had finished a tele- 
phone conversation. Then she burst out with: 
“Daddy, come quick! There ’s a man brought a 
little boy in from the storm. The man ’s cut his 
head dreadfully, and the little boy looks nearly 
dead.” 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


79 


Meanwhile the wounded new-comer had laid the 
half-conscious child down on the soft rug before 
the library fire. Madelon and Lee knelt down 
beside the small figure, so pathetically white and 
still, and both began to chafe his hands, blue with 
cold. 

“He ’s coming around all right, I think / 9 said 
the young man. But he bent over the child rather 
anxiously. 

“What happened ?” Madelon was beginning, 
but, before he could reply, a voice behind them 
demanded : 

“What *s up?” 

Peter Pan had rushed in her terror to Ned, ab- 
sorbed in his wireless. Her breathless appeal had 
brought him down-stairs with more speed than he 
was wont to exhibit. He now appeared on the 
scene of action, with Pet, grown quite bold, at 
his heels. 

The stranger turned at the sound of Ned’s voice. 

“Hello, Heathcote!” 

‘ ‘ Why — hello — Sterling ! What ’s happened to 
you? Been fighting in the trenches?” 

The battered and blood-stained guest might well 
have posed for a wounded soldier, come back from 
the firing-line. But he answered with grim 
humor : 

“No; torpedoed by a submarine.” 

At that moment Raymonde returned with her 
father. Almost at the same instant Mrs. Heath- 


80 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

cote joined the group. Sounds of excitement had 
reached her ears as she emerged from the, store- 
room, and here she was, ready to be mother, nurse, 
and hostess, all three at once. 

‘ ‘ This way,” Dr. Heathcote said to the young 
man. “ Bring the little fellow into my office. 
What happened to you both?” he asked as the tall 
patient lifted the small one from the rug. 

“We Ve had a ducking, sir,” was the answer. 

The child, whose curly head rested in utter 
weariness against his guardian’s shoulder, ap- 
peared to be suffering more from cold and ex- 
haustion than from any injury, and Dr. Heath- 
cote turned to his wife. 

“Grace, this little boy looks as if he needed a 
hot bath and a good sleep more than anything 
else. Please get the things ready for him, while 
I look him over. And I ’ll be ready for you in 
five minutes,” he told the young man, as they 
stepped into the office. 

“He ’s Sterling of Beaufort, Dad,” Ned called 
to his father, as the door closed behind the doctor 
and the two refugees from the storm. Raymonde 
started at the name. 

“Ned, bring down the old crib from the attic, 
and put it in the sewing-room,” said his mother; 
and up-stairs went her son, two steps at a time. 
“And, Ray, go and find Alma, and send her to me 
right away,” Mrs. Heathcote directed. “Then 


A PRISONER OF WAR 81 

come up-stairs and get a blanket to wrap that 
freezing baby in. ’ ’ 

Mother sped, daughter sped, and Alma the maid 
was soon speeding. Then Raymonde came run- 
ning down stairs again with a big, woolly bundle. 
“Blankets, Daddy !” 

The office door opened, and she asked anxiously : 

“Is the little boy very sick?” 

“No, indeed. Cold and shock, that ’s all that 
is the matter with him,” answered her father, as 
she handed in the blankets. 

Raymonde reported the hopeful news to her 
friends, and then scampered up-stairs to her 
mother. The other girls waited in the hall below, 
talking in hushed voices, and longing to find out 
what had really happened. Presently Ned re- 
turned. 

“Sterling must have had worse than a ducking 
to get his head smashed up like that,” he ob- 
served. 

“He ’s a friend of yours, isn’t he?” said Lee. 

“No; he ’s an enemy.” 

“An enemy!” exclaimed Madelon. “What do 
you mean?” 

But at that moment the office door opened and 
Dr. Heathcote stepped forth with the younger pa- 
tient in his arms. The child was now wrapped 
in a warm blanket and his eyes were shut as if he 
was dozing already. 


82 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


4 ‘Here, Son,” said the doctor, “carry this 
youngster up to your mother. Tell her I ’ll have 
another look at him when I ’ve patched up 
Sterling.” 

Ned carried the white-faced little boy up-stairs 
and, returning, invaded his father’s office, where 
he watched his enemy having the gash on his fore- 
head mended with surgical stitches. 

Before long, Raymonde came down, reporting: 

“That little boy ’s a perfect dear. He ’s had a 
bath and some hot milk, and now Mother ’s put- 
ting him to bed. I do wonder who he is, poor 
little fellow! He can’t tell us anything. He just 
whimpers now and then, and once he cried out as 
if he was frightened.” 

Raymonde had orders from her mother to see 
that the older guest was given some hot supper. 

“I ’m going to set the little tea-table in the 
library, right by the fire,” said she. “Then he 
can toast himself nice and warm while he eats.” 

“Do give us something to do,” begged Lee. 
“It ’s dreadful not to be able to help when every- 
body else is so busy.” 

“I ’ll keep up the fire,” said Tommy. She be- 
gan to pile wood on the already cheery blaze, till 
the flames, crackling and snapping, went roaring 
like mad up the chimney. 

The others helped Ray make ready the tea-table, 
while supper was being prepared for “Sterling,” 
as Ned had called his unexpected guest. 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


83 


“Ned told us he was ‘an enemy,’ ” said Made- 
Ion. “What did he mean? Are they really ene- 
mies?” 

“Oh, deadly enemies!” laughed Raymonde. 
“I didn’t know who he was when he came in; 
and when I heard Ned say he was Sterling of 
Beaufort, I nearly tumbled down, I was so sur- 
prised.” 

‘ ‘ But why are they enemies ? Have they had a 
fight?” 

“They ’ve had nothing but fights. They ’re at 
war,” Ray announced solemnly. “Sterling ’s a 
cadet at Beaufort Military School, and Ned ’s a 
Hunter, you know.” 

Huntwell Academy, Ned’s alma mater, was in 
Ridgemont; and between the Hunters, as the 
Academy hoys were called, and the cadets of the 
big military school in the neighboring town of 
Beaufort, a deadly rivalry existed. They waged 
war on the gridiron and on the diamond, and Ned 
and his enemy also carried hostilities into the 
field of literature. 

“Ned ’s the Huntwell quarter-hack,” said his 
proud sister, “and Sterling ’s on the Beaufort 
team. And they ’re rival editors, too. Ned ’s 
one of the editors of ‘The Game Bag’ — that ’s the 
Hunters’ paper, — and Sterling edits the Beaufort 
one, ‘The Cornet.’ And they ’re always grilling 
each other in their papers. My, how they hit each 
other off!” 


84 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


It was an odd trick of fortune indeed that had 
brought Ned’s rival seeking help at the Hunter’s 
door. 

“I wonder how he hurt his poor head, and 
where he found that dear little boy,” said Ray- 
monde, but she was too busy for more chatter just 
then. 

The tea-table, daintily set for one, was ready by 
the fireside, and Tommy’s cheeks were crimson 
with the heat of that glorious blaze, by the time 
that Ned ushered liis enemy into the library. No 
longer dripping and mud-besplashed, “ Sterling of 
Beaufort” was attired now in a suit belonging to 
his young host, and his head was encircled by a 
broad white bandage. The big, athletic fellow, 
whose height had at first made the girls take him 
for a full-grown man, was really only a lad still, 
near Ned’s age, no doubt; but there was a clean- 
cut, soldierly look about him, and as he confronted 
a whole quartette of young waitresses at the 
library door, he held himself with martial erect- 
ness, as if he were on review before his command- 
ing officer. 

Raymonde headed the procession that brought 
in his supper. She carried a tray laden with a 
plate of duck and apple-sauce and a generous sup- 
ply of bread and butter. Madelon bore a steam- 
ing coffee-pot. Lee followed with the sugar and 
cream, and Pet brought up the rear with the last 
big slice of her own frosted birthday-cake. The 


. A PRISONER OF WAR 85 

eyes of the hungry guest sparkled, as his feast 
was arranged upon the table. 

‘ ‘Oh, thank you!” he exclaimed. “Is that all 
for me!” 

“Of course,” Ray answered. “But I’m so 
sorry we haven’t any ice cream left. We’ve 
been having a birthday party. I suppose hot cof- 
fee ’s better for you, though. You must be cold 
after getting drenched in the storm. I hope your 
head feels better.” 

“Fine, thank you,” he assured her, and then 
Raymonde remembered formalities. 

“You ought to introduce him, Ned,” she re- 
minded her brother, in a soft aside. 

“That ’s so!” Ned loudly agreed. “Miss 
D’Arcy, Miss Armitage First, Miss Armitage Sec- 
ond, Miss Tommy — I mean Miss Thompson — 
allow me to present Mr. Kenneth Sterling, cele- 
brated in the field of journalism as editor of ‘The 
Cornet,’ and equally illustrious as an officer of 
the world-renowned Beaufort Rough Riders ! 
And, Toots, this is my sister, Raymonde.” 

“Why do you call him ‘Toots’?” asked Lee, 
while Ray shook hands with this member of the 
Beaufort cavalry troop. 

“Because he toots ‘The Cornet,’ ” replied the 
editor of “The Game Bag.” 

“I suppose I ’m a prisoner of war,” said their 
captured enemy. 

“Of course you are!” cried Raymonde. 


86 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“You ’re our prisoner of war, and you ’re a 
wounded prisoner, so we ’ll be good to you. 
You ’ll have to be our prisoner as long as the 
storm lasts, too.” 

“Prison sounds awfully good after a forced 
march in a seventy-knot gale,” he answered, 
gratefully. 

“Now, you must eat your supper while it ’s 
hot,” said his young hostess. “We ’re crazy to 
hear all about what happened and who that poor 
little boy is, but you mustn’t talk till you ’ve had 
something to eat.” She eyed the feast critically. 
‘ ‘ Is there anything more you ’d like ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, please. I’d like a life sentence, if this 
is the way you treat your prisoners.” And Ken- 
neth Sterling proceeded to do full justice to his 
supper. 

They could not resist asking him questions, 
however, long before his plate was cleared. 

“Who is the little boy? Do you know him?” 
asked Raymonde. 

“No, I don’t,” was the answer. “All I know is, 
he was oft his trail, like me ; and there was n’t a 
house anywhere around to take him to — so I 
brought him along.” 

“The poor little fellow! Then he was lost! 
In all this dreadful storm!” 

“He must have been lost. He had a pretty 
rough shaking up too, poor little rascal,” an- 
swered the child’s rescuer. “He was all in.” 


A PRISONER OF WAR 87 

“He sure was ‘all in’! So were you,” mur- 
mured Ned. 

To the doctor and his son, Kenneth had made 
confession of his adventures, but Ned had re- 
ceived the injunction, “Now keep dark on that, 
will you?” 

“But how did you hurt yourself?” was the next 
question put to the prisoner of war. 

“I ’m afraid I must have damaged a small 
rock,” said Kenneth, regretfully. 

Ned chuckled. Kenneth’s hostesses were full 
of sympathetic interest. What had happened? 
Had he had a fall? 

“Why, I did have a kind of a tumble,” he ad- 
mitted. “I must have hit a rock, but I don’t re- 
member it. ’ ’ 

“Well, I should think you ’d have had a dozen 
tumbles. Trying to find your way in such a pitch- 
black night!” exclaimed Lee. “I wonder you 
didn’t break your neck.” 

“I wonder, myself,” said Kenneth. 

He was on his way back to the military school, 
it turned out, after a summer vacation in Maine ; 
for Beaufort, like Huntwell, was to open the next 
day. 

“But there ’s a freight wreck on the road just 
before you come to Ridgemont,” he explained, 
“and it blocked the train I was on. They said we 
might be stalled till morning, and I wouldn’t 
stand for that. It was n’t raining just then, so I 


88 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

started to cut across country to the trolley. I 
lost my bearings, though, and found the kiddie. 
That ’s the short of it.” 

“But we want to hear the long of it,” pleaded 
Raymonde. 

“That ’s right. Pump him hard,” Ned ad- 
vised. 

“Wait a minute till I come back. I hear 
Mother calling.” Ray darted up-stairs to Mrs. 
Heathcote, who, unable yet to leave her little pa- 
tient, was anxious to know if the guest down in the 
library had everything that could make him com- 
fortable. 

When Raymonde came back to the fireside, her 
cheeks were glowing, her eyes bright with excite- 
ment. She faced Kenneth Sterling with the air 
of a judge who demands “the truth, the whole 
truth, and nothing but the truth. ’ ’ 

“Now I know what happened,” she cried. 
* ‘ Father was telling Mother when I went up. You 
saved that little boy’s life, and you nearly lost 
your own. Girls, they went over the falls to- 
gether ! Over Kintakoy Falls, where we were to- 
day !” 

“Over the falls!” fairly screamed all her four 
friends at once. 

The scene of their morning’s visit came back to 
the girls: the rushing freshet, the swollen mill 
pond, and the wild plunge of the Kintakoy over 
the barrier. 


A PRISONER OF WAR 89 

“It ’s all over with you, Toots,’ ’ said Ned. 
“You ’ll have to own up.” 

“Why,” said the life-saving hero, “the kiddie 
and I took a swim in the Kintakoy. That ’s why 
we were so extra wet.” 

“Don’t make fun of it. Tell us all about it,” 
cried Lee. “You don ’t mean you really went over 
the mill-dam, over those dreadful falls?” 

“It ’s easy enough to go over the dam,” said 
Kenneth, “dead easy, when you ’re in the mill- 
pond. The hard thing is not to go over. ’ ’ 

“Tell us about it! Tell us! tell us! tell us!” 
his excited audience demanded. 

“Why,” began Kenneth, “I lost my way, cut- 
ting across country, you know; but pretty soon I 
struck the river. I followed it down, trying to 
find the old foot-bridge — ” 

“That ’s been swept away,” Raymonde inter- 
rupted. 

“I got to the mill stream just above the dam. 
I heard a child scream, and then I saw a little 
fellow in the water. The bank ’s awfully steep 
and slippery there. He must have rolled down. 
He was holding on to a bush or something and 
yelling for all he was worth. Before I could get 
to him, he lost his hold and was going with the 
current.” 

Ned whistled. 

“You got into a ticklish job that time.” 

“Well, I was feazed for a minute, rather,” Ken- 


90 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

neth admitted. i * Then I threw oft my coat and 
jumped for it. When I got hold of the little chap 
it was too late to keep from going over, and we 
had to shoot the chutes !” 

Ned chuckled again. 

“Shot the chutes in a freshet, holding a kid. 
Old man, you ’re some swimmer ! ’ ’ 

Five pairs of bright eyes, open to their widest, 
were fixed upon Kenneth. 

“What did it feel like?” cried Peter Pan. 
“What did it feel like, going over the falls'?” 

“It felt like rapid transit,” replied Kenneth. 
“A rapid transit over Niagara!” declared Ray- 
monde. “You take it pretty coolly. I don’t see 
how anybody could do it and not be drowned.” 

“Or dashed to death against those horrible 
rocks below the falls,” added Lee, with a shudder. 
“How did you ever live through it?” 

Kenneth shook his bandaged head. 

“That ’s more than I can say. I only know 
we didn’t get smashed.” 

“But you were hurt,” Raymonde reminded him. 
“You must have struck your head against one of 
those sharp rocks. But that little boy hasn’t a 
bruise.” 

“Go on! Go on!” urged Madelon. 

“Let ’s see. I don’t seem to remember much 
about it after we sailed over the dam. But we 
must have slewed around some with the wreckage. 
And I think the kiddie and I, between us, swal- 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


91 


lowed at least half the stream,’ ’ he added, laugh- 
ing, 4 ‘because the first thing I knew, I was in 
shallow water, with my feet on the bottom all 
right. But it must have been a close call for both 
of us.” 

Boy-like, Kenneth made light of his desperate 
adventure. But the girls could picture it all : the 
helpless child clinging in the agony of his fear 
to the bushes on the bank; the sweeping away of 
the little form into the midst of the rushing cur- 
rent; then the leap of the young athlete to the 
rescue; then the swift, powerful strokes with 
which he fought his way through the racing 
waters, till one strong arm was locked fast about 
the drowning child. After that the dreadful 
plunge, as the torrent flung him and his burden 
headlong over the dam, down into the whirlpools 
below, to fight for his life among those jagged, 
cruel rocks and the entangling wreckage of the 
flood! The girls thought with horror how two 
lives might have been thrown away in those wild 
waters. 

“And if I hadn’t found out,” said Raymonde, 
“I believe you ’d have kept still and never told 
us a word about it.” 

“What was the use? It ’s all over now,” mut- 
tered Kenneth. 

Suddenly the girls fell to clapping with all their 
might. The applause made the blood mount hotly 
to the hero’s cheek. He looked down in confusion. 


92 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“He ought to have a medal !” Madelon hurst 
out. “Isn’t there a Legion of Honor in this 
country, like the one in France? He ought to 
have the cross of the Legion of Honor.” 

“So he ought!” agreed Lee. “Oh, Ray, make 
your father write to the governor or somebody 
and tell him all about it. People get medals for 
saving lives when they don’t do anything half as 
splendid as that.” 

“I ’ll make Daddy do it!” Raymonde promised. 

If Ned of Huntwell desired revenge upon his 
Beaufort enemy, he tasted the sweetness of it 
now. Under the bombardment of compliments 
poor Kenneth was blushing red as tire, and evi- 
dently wishing himself anywhere but in the Heath- 
cotes’ library! Raymonde ’s sisterly experience 
had taught her that “a fellow hates to have a fuss 
made,” and she tactfully came to the rescue by 
pleading: 

“Tell the rest. Tell us how you brought the 
little boy here.” 

So the modest hero continued: 

“I thought it was all over with the poor little 
chap. He was unconscious when I got him out. 
I worked over him a good while before I could 
bring him to. As soon as his lungs were in work- 
ing order, I went back with him to pick up my coat 
and grip. Just as I got him wrapped up in my 
coat and sweater, we came in for another dousing. 


93 


A PRISONER OF WAR 

It began to pour like a good fellow. Well, I 
didn’t see any bouses anywhere, so I cached my 
grip in some bushes and hurried on. I followed 
the river down to the iron bridge. It must be the 
only one left standing. I crossed over and 
thought I ’d strike Ridgemont, but it was so pitch 
dark by that time, I lost my way. While I was 
beating about, though, suddenly your light flashed 
out; so I headed straight for it, and when I got 
to your gate I was pretty sure it was the Heath- 
cotes V’ 

“That round window up in the attic is Ray- 
monde’s lighthouse,” put in Lee. “She has a 
lantern up there, and she lights it every night, so 
people will see it if they get lost.” 

“I knew somebody ’d get lost some day,” de- 
clared Raymonde, triumphantly. “But I nearly 
forgot to light up to-night. Oh, I ’m so glad I 
remembered it in time!” 

“You ’re a lighthouse keeper, are you?” said 
Kenneth. “Well, I ’m sure you did as good work 
as a real one to-night ! You ought to have a regu- 
lar appointment from the government after this! 
I can’t half tell you how grateful I am, Miss Light- 
house Keeper,” he added earnestly. “I don’t be- 
lieve that poor little kid could have stood it much 
longer. He had a hard fight for it.” 

“So did you,” said Ned, and Kenneth did not 
deny it. 


94 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Why didn’t he like to tell us what he ’ d 
done?” Madelon asked Ned afterwards. 

“He ’s not the kind to blow his own trumpet, if 
he does toot ‘The Cornet,’ ” replied the editor of 
“The Game Bag.” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 

N OW, don’t forget that we ’re only releasing 
you on parole. You ’re our prisoner of war 
still, and every little while you must come hack 
here and report to your captors.” This was Mrs. 
Heathcote’s parting charge to the Beaufort cadet, 
as the next morning after breakfast he and Ned 
were setting forth for their respective schools. 

“ Indeed 1 will come back,” answered Kenneth 
Sterling. “ Thank you ever so much for all 
you ’ve done. You ’ve been awfully good to me.” 

The battle-scarred veteran of the mill stream 
shook hands all around and departed, his foe of 
Huntwell promising to recover his satchel for him 
and send it on to Beaufort. They all liked him, 
and he had found high favor with the old major, 
who was interested to hear that the boy’s father 
was an officer in Uncle Sam’s army and stationed 
out in the Philippines. 

Kenneth’s “pal,” as he called his small com- 
rade in adventure, was still sleeping as soundly as 
if he “had supped on dormouse pie”; but later in 
the morning, when the girls stole up to the cosy crib 
95 


96 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

provided for him, he turned and stretched, and 
opened his blue eyes. Then the curly head lifted 
itself from the pillow, and a very much surprised 
youngster sat up and blinked and stared in utter 
bewilderment. The girls all began talking to him 
at once, asking him his name and whose little boy 
he was ; but he continued to survey them without 
a word. 

“You cunning little man!” said Ray, cuddling 
him up to her with a hug. “Now won’t you tell 
me what your name is?” 

He looked up into her face and spoke to her; 
but of what he said she could make out only one 
word. 

“He said something about ‘Maman ’!” she ex- 
claimed. “He ’s speaking French. He must be 
a little French boy.” 

Immediately the girls began trying their F rench 
upon him, though Raymonde, Pet, and Tommy 
progressed no further in the conversation than: 
“ Bonjour!” “Comment vous portez-vous ?” and 
“ Parlez-vous Frangais?” 

“Now wait, girls! We mustn’t all jabber at 
him at once,” said Raymonde. “You talk to him, 
Madelon. You can speak French.” 

Speaking the tongue that he understood, Made- 
Ion coaxed the child into telling his name. It was 
“Louis,” “Louis Carrette.” Where did he live? 
On that point Louis seemed as much puzzled as the 
girls themselves. But more questioning at last 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 


97 


brought out that he lived on a farm, and then 
the enlightening fact that they had a cat there. 
Did “maman” live on the farm too? Yes, but 
“maman” had gone away. 

“But you went away too, didn’t you?” said 
Madelon, in French. 

Yes; Louis had gone to find maman . He had 
fallen in the water. It was cold. Yet evidently 
no recollection of his ride over the mill-dam or of 
his rescue remained in his curly pate. 

“Are you a little French boy?” questioned 
Madelon; but to her surprise he shook his head 
emphatically and answered : 

“Beige. Beige.” 

“Girls,” she cried, “he 9 a a Belgian! He must 
be a little Belgian refugee. Lots of them speak 
French, you know. He must have been brought 
over here to escape from the war.” 

A Belgian! Excitement spread through the 
house, for at this time every one was talking of 
the Belgian refugees, whom the cruelties of war 
had driven from their homes. Raymonde dashed 
away to find Mrs. Heathcote. 

“Mother! Mother!” she called. “You’ve 
been making clothes for the poor Belgians all 
summer ! And now you ’ve got a little Belgian 
right here ! ’ ’ 

Next, Ray unearthed a collection of old toys and 
picture-books, relics of her nursery days, and lit- 
tle Monsieur Carrette had a royal good time with 


98 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


five devoted young ladies exerting themselves to 
entertain him. While they were still gathered 
around Louis ’s crib, Dr. and Mrs. Heathcote came 
into the room, bringing with them an excited 
young woman dressed in mourning. This new- 
comer rushed to the bedside and caught the little 
boy in her arms, calling him by endearing French 
names. Dr. Heathcote had found Louis’s van- 
ished mother. 

Early in the morning the doctor had started out 
on a search for the little wanderer’s home, and 
it was at Raymonde’s school that the clue had 
been found. Miss Cleveland, the principal, had 
suggested that the lost boy might be the child 
of the young Belgian woman whom she had just 
engaged to be the school seamstress. Madame 
Carrette ’s sad story had appealed to Miss Cleve- 
land’s sympathies. The Carrette family had been 
prosperous before the war, but Louis’s father, 
called to the colors, had fallen in battle, and the 
child and his mother had been forced to join the 
long stream of refugees that had flowed from Bel- 
gium into France. Madame Carrette had a 
brother in the United States, and he had sent her 
money that she might join him and make her home 
in the peaceful western world. So that summer 
she had sailed for America with her little boy. 
It was on her brother’s farm near Ridgemont 
that the young widow with the worn, sorrowful 
face had been found by Miss Cleveland, who, 


99 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 

learning her desire to be self-supporting, had 
promised her employment at Netley Hall. 

Late yesterday afternoon Madame Carrette had 
been at the school, talking over her future duties. 
Dr. Heathcote had agreed with Miss Cleveland 
that the rescued child might well be the little Bel- 
gian, who had probably strayed away in his moth- 
er's absence. The doctor had lost no time in 
speeding to the farm and, finding their guess to be 
correct, had now brought the distracted mother 
to the child that she had so nearly lost forever. 

“I 'll tell you what let 's do, girls," said Ray- 
monde after her father had taken Madame Car- 
rette and Louis away in his car. ‘ 1 They 're going 
to live at Netley. Let 's have Louis for the 0. 
G. G.'s adopted son, and bring him up to be a 
patriot. Let 's train him to be a good American 
citizen. That really will be patriotic work. ' ' 

As the continued dampness again prevented the 
hoped-for picnic from taking place, the same hour 
that saw the little Belgian depart saw also Made- 
Ion, bewailing her fate, return to the Castle and 
to solitary lessons under Mademoiselle Trenaye. 
The next morning Raymonde and her three school 
chums began their new term at Netley Hall. The 
flag, which they then presented to their class, met 
an enthusiastic reception, and the name “ Girls 
of Old Glory" was unanimously adopted. As the 
days went by Ray felt that she had never enjoyed 
her school life so thoroughly as now. Usually she 


100 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


stayed to luncheon at Netley to share the athletics 
in the afternoon, and, with lessons, home-study, 
and out-door sports to occupy her time, her only 
chances to see her princess came on Saturdays 
and Sundays. 

Poor Madelon, bereft of the sunlight of her 
friend’s presence, found her school life a very 
cheerless affair. Long-suffering Mademoiselle 
Trenaye found the days equally dismal, for her 
pupil treated her to alternate fits of moody de- 
pression and restless irritability. Pouts, frowns, 
weary yawns, and woeful sighs were the order of 
the day at D’Arcy Castle, but all was joy when the 
end of the week arrived and, as generally hap- 
pened, Madelon went to spend Sunday at “Heath- 
cote Lighthouse,” as Kenneth Sterling had in- 
sisted on naming the home of his captors. 

The prisoner of war was faithful to his parole 
too, and one Saturday afternoon the two girls 
came in to find in the parlor a tall figure in the 
blue uniform of a Beaufort cadet. Lieutenant 
Kenneth Sterling had come back to report, and 
there he was, deep in conversation with Mrs. 
Heathcote. 

“Poor boy! I ’m sorry for him,” she said aft- 
erward. “He has no mother, and his father being 
in the army, Kenneth has very little chance to be 
with him. I told him he must consider this a sec- 
ond home — just as you do, Madelon — and come in 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 101 

as freely as if he belonged here. He seemed so 
pleased and grateful !” 

“ Toots/ ’ as Ned had dubbed him, and “Doc,” 
as Kenneth called Dr. Heathcote’s son and heir 
and prospective successor, continued to meet as 
foes on the foot-ball field, where they covered 
themselves with dust and glory. As hostile edi- 
tors, too, they still threw literary grenades at 
each other; but the hotter their warfare on the 
printed page, the firmer grew the friendship be- 
tween the editors of “The Cornet” and “The 
Game Bag.” 

When the Christmas holidays were dawning, 
Ned invited his rival to spend a night at the 
Heathcotes ’ and compete in an ice-hockey tourna- 
ment before going home to his uncle and aunt in 
Boston. Kenneth arrived in a snow flurry, and 
the door was opened for him by Madelon, who 
wore an extraordinary addition to her costume. 
She had thrown around her head and shoulders a 
patchwork quilt that was a blaze of brilliant hues. 

“Oh, I thought you were the girls!” she cried, 
starting back. 

Kenneth was so electrified by the visioq, before 
him that he forgot his “How do you do!” and 
demanded: “What ’s that thing you have on!” 

“It ’s my flag quilt,” she replied, laughing at 
his astonished stare. “I put it on to surprise the 
girls. I came only a few minutes ago and found 


102 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

everybody out; Out when I heard the door-bell I 
thought it was Ray. She ’s gone to bring Lee 
and Tommy and Pet home for the holidays. 
Ray ’s been fixing up the old play-room on the top 
floor for a Patriots’ Hall. We ’re the Old Glory 
Girls, you know, and we ’re to have meetings up 
there. She ’s tacked up yards and yards of red, 
white, and blue bunting, and she has her grand- 
father’s stuffed eagle and lots of things to make it 
look patriotic. And I promised I ’d bring down 
my old flag quilt if I could find it. See — it ’s made 
of the flags of all nations.” 

Surely, since patchwork quilts were first in- 
vented, no odder one was ever made than this in 
which Madelon had wrapped herself! It was 
composed entirely of silk flags mounted on pieces 
of bright satin, and in it most of the nations of 
the world had found place. But a good patriot 
must have made the quilt, for a quartette of Amer- 
ican flags was grouped around the central banner, 
which, strange to say, belonged to no nation at all, 
but bore what seemed to be a purely fanciful de- 
sign. This flag had, embroidered upon a blue 
field, a large capital “A,” worked in black with a 
white border, and on each side of the letter a black 
disk surrounded by a white circle, giving the 
effect of two wheels flanking the mysterious 
initial. 

Madelon twirled around to show off the beau- 
ties of her flag quilt. 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 103 

“Hold on! Don’t spin around so fast,” said 
Kenneth. “Let me take it all in.” 

She stopped twirling, divested herself of the 
quilt, and spread it out for his inspection. 

“It ’s pretty, isn’t it!” said she. 

‘ ‘ I — should — say ! ” he answered slowly. “ It ’s 
a regular stunner!” He studied the quilt as if 
patchwork were the one absorbing hobby of his 
life. 

“Well, you must love flags,” laughed Madelon. 

“I do.” 

1 ‘ I ought to give this to you , then, instead of to 
the girls,” she said. 

“I wish you would,” he answered. “I ’d hang 
it on my wall at Beaufort. It would make a 
dandy show.” 

“Well, have you stared at it long enough?” 
Madelon inquired presently. 

“No. But — where did the thing come from?” 

“I was found wrapped up in it,” said Madelon, 
“when I was saved from the earthquake.” She 
eyed him questioningly. “Did the Heathcotes 
ever tell you that I was in the San Francisco 
earthquake?” 

“Yes; they told me.” Kenneth looked at her 
as if she aroused his interest keenly. “Do you 
remember much about it? You must have been 
pretty small then. ’ ’ 

“I was. And I don’t remember anything. I 
only know what I ’ve been told about it.” 


104 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Tell me what you know,” said Kenneth. 
“Would you mind? I Ve never talked with an 
earthquake victim before.” 

“I lost my mother then,” Madelon told him. 
“I lost every one.” 

Recollecting that Kenneth, like herself, was 
motherless, and seeing the look of sympathy in 
his face, Madelon felt as if his loss and hers made 
a link between them, and so, as frankly as she had 
poured it out to Raymonde, she told him her 
strange history. On the library sofa they en- 
sconced themselves, with the flags of the nations 
between them; and, as he listened to her story, 
Kenneth leaned toward her with a look that grew 
more and more intent. He seemed to be studying 
her now, with even greater earnestness than he 
had studied the quilt. 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” 
Madelon suddenly exclaimed. “Your eyes are 
getting darker every minute, and you ’re frown- 
ing as if you were angry with somebody.” 

Kenneth drew back, reddening. Then he 
laughed. 

“I didn’t mean to look fierce. I was only — 
interested.” When he had heard the whole story, 
he was thoughtfully silent at first. “I ’m awfully 
sorry for you!” he said presently. “It is pretty 
rough not to have anybody at all that ’s your 
own.” 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 105 

“And not even to know who I am,” added Made- 
Ion, wistfully. 

“But you called yourself ‘Cissie Fay/ ” 

“Yes, but Aunt Edith says, if I hadn’t called 
myself that, she ’d think my name must begin with 
an A, because — look there.” Madelon touched 
the odd sign on the central flag of her quilt. “I 
call it my mystic sign,” said she. “I wonder 
what those two things like wheels are. And what 
do you suppose the A stands for?” 

“For Anything you please,” returned Kenneth. 
“Here ’s a queer thing, too,” he added, touch- 
ing the white flag of Japan with its round red sun. 
Down one side of the banner something was writ- 
ten in Japanese characters. 

“Perhaps it ’s a poem,” suggested Madelon. 
“Aren’t those Japanese letters queer?” 

“Maybe you were in Japan once,” said Ken- 
neth. 

“Maybe I was ! I ’m sure I was once on a ship. 
That ’s one of my mind pictures.” 

The door-bell rang at that moment, and this 
time it really was Raymonde and her friends. 
Madelon and her flag quilt were greeted with de- 
light, and the prisoner on parole had a cordial 
welcome too. Then Ray and her school chums ran 
up-stairs to lay aside their snow-powdered coats 
and hats, and, as Madelon followed them, Tommy 
called back to her, joyously: 


106 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Maddie, have you heard the news? Ray ’s 
coming up to board at Netley with us. Is n’t that 
great ? ’ ’ 

Madelon gripped the balustrade. 

“What?” she gasped, growing actually pale. 

Wrathfully Raymonde turned on Tommy the in- 
discreet. 

“Oh, now, Tom, what did you go and blurt that 
out for? I meant to break it to her gently, not 
shout it at her the first minute.” 

“Ray,” said Madelon, “you don’t mean you ’re 
going to board at the school? Not really?” 

“It ’s only just settled, Maddie,” said Ray- 
monde. “I didn’t know I was going to board at 
Netley till mother told me this morning.” Then, 
as they turned into the guest-room, she explained. 

The major’s bronchitis proved to be responsible 
for the plan, so joyous from Tommy’s point of 
view, so melancholy from Madelon ’s. Dr. Heath- 
cote had insisted that his father should be in the 
south during the rest of the cold weather, and so, 
after New Year’s the old gentleman was going to 
Florida with Mrs. Heathcote to take care of him. 

“Daddy says it ’ll do Mother lots of good, too,” 
Raymonde went on. “She ’s all tired out and 
needs a change. So Daddy and Ned ’ll have to 
keep bachelor’s hall, and 1 ’m going to boarding- 
school.” She could not keep a ring of exultation 
out of her voice. To have a taste of real board- 
ing-school life at last was an exciting prospect. 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 


107 


4 4 For how long?” Madelon asked grimly. 

4 4 Till Easter. Oh, Maddie, I wish you were 
coming too!” 

4 4 Ray ’s going to room with Dixie and me,” an- 
nounced Pet, gleefully. 

4 4 Yes,” said Lee, 4 4 the school ’s so full, Miss 
Cleveland says she ’ll have to put a cot in our 
room for her. Then we ’ll all three be together. 
Oh, Honey, won’t it be fun!” She squeezed Ray- 
monde’s hand. 

44 Ooh, won’t we have larks!” chuckled Peter 
Pan. 

Madelon faced Raymonde, and her lips were set 
in a hard line. 

4 4 Well, good-by, then!” she suddenly flashed 
out. 44 I sha’n’t see you any more till next April 
— that ’s all ! ’ ’ 

4 4 Why, Madelon, you ’ll see me most as often as 
you do now. You must come up to school and 
see me every single Saturday.” 

But Madelon saw only the termination of those 
delightful week-ends spent at the Heathcote home. 
4 4 That won’t do me any good, just seeing you up 
at the school,” she declared. 4 4 You ’ll be so busy 
playing hockey and basket-ball and all the things I 
can’t play, I ’ll hardly have a chance to speak to 
you.” 

4 4 We ’ll teach you to play, too,” Lee put in. 

4 4 Of course we will,” the others promised. 

4 4 You ’ll be our hockey star,” said Tommy. 


108 THE GIRLS OP OLD GLORY 


“And maybe,” added Raymonde, “sometimes 
you can spend the night with us. ’ ’ 

Madelon only shrugged her shoulders moodily. 
She refused to look on any side but the darkest. 

“Oh, yes,” she muttered scornfully. “I see 
Mademoiselle letting me spend nights up there! 
She always stops off everything that ’s fun.” 

“She hasn’t stopped you from spending Sun- 
days with us,” Raymonde reminded her. “But 
any way, Maddie, dear, this is only till Easter; 
that is n’t long!” 

“It does n’t sound long to you,” Madelon burst 
out half angrily. “You ’re going to be with all 
the girls and have heaps of fun. But it ’ll seem 
long enough to me, I can tell you! Everybody 
gone away from me! Nobody to speak to but 
Mademoiselle and Coralie!” Shaking off the 
comforting arm that Raymonde had slipped 
around her, she walked to the window and stood 
looking out in gloomy silence. 

“Ray will be having a perfectly beautiful time 
at school with all her friends, and I ’ll be shut out 
of everything. She ’ll be with Lee and Pet all 
day and all night for months. They ’ll be every- 
thing to her, and I sha’n’t be anything.” So ran 
Madelon’s tormenting thoughts, and a little teas- 
ing sprite of jealousy awoke in her heart. 

“Big dunce I was to let it out!” groaned 
Tommy, and no one contradicted the state- 
ment. 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 109 

The girls redoubled their efforts to console 
Madelon, but she broke out impatiently: 

“You needn’t try so hard to make me feel 
better. Other people have all the good times and 
I have all the horrid times. Well, I ’m used to 
it!” 

“Oh, Maddie, you make me feel mean!” cried 
poor Raymonde, her pleasure all taken away. “I 
don’t want to go to boarding-school a bit now.” 

“You do want to! You know you want to!” 
Madelon retorted. “You ’re crazy to go.” 

“I don’t want to leave my princess behind. 
And I don’t like losing my mother for four months. 
Of course it ’ll be fun to be with Dixie and Pet 
and Tom, but — ” 

i i There, ’ ’ broke in Madelon. ‘ ‘ I knew you were 
crazy to go ! But I don ’t see why, when you and 
everybody can go to boarding-school and have no 
end of larks and fun, I have to stay shut up in 
that old prison with Mademoiselle. It ’s not 
fair!” A little stamp of her foot emphasized 
the unfairness. “And day in and day out, it ’s 
nothing but ‘ Don’t do this’ and ‘Don’t do that’! 
1 have n’t any say about anything. Mademoiselle 
has it all. Oh, I ’m sick and tired of being made 
to do things every minute of my life !” 

Tommy slapped her on the back encouragingly. 

“Cheer up, old girl! Your Mademoiselle will 
fade away soon. Nobody could last long with you 
looking like that.” 


110 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

This compliment to the blackness of her frown 
was too much for Madelon. 

“I'd like to see you stand what I have to!” she 
flared, and flung herself out of the room. She 
retreated to the pretty blue and white nest that 
she always shared with Raymonde, who, follow- 
ing now, found the door of her own apartment 
slammed in her face. 

When Mrs. Heathcote returned from a round of 
Christmas-ing and, demanding that “this dear 
little dismal daughter” tell her about the trouble, 
pulled the usurper of the blue and white nest down 
into her lap, Madelon felt a strong temptation to 
lay her head on that soft, motherly shoulder and 
have a good cry. But being a proud girl, she 
stiffened her quivering lip and her spinal column, 
too, and would yield neither to a clearing shower 
of tears nor to the sunshine of the sweet-faced 
lady’s smile. 

*“ Bless your heart, childie! Don’t spoil your 
whole Christmas vacation by worrying over 
what ’s not going to happen till after New 
Year’s,” said the cheery little mother. 

But Madelon declared: 

“My vacation ’s spoiled now.” Even the pros- 
pect of spending Christmas with Aunt Edith in 
New York and of a reunion with Valerie Van Ars- 
dale was beclouded by the thought of Raymonde ’s 
desertion in January. 

“Well, any way, dearie, try not to spoil other 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 


111 


people’s vacations, too,” said Mrs. Heathcote. 
4 4 Poor Raymonde looks as doleful as you do, by 
this time ! And even Tommy is wearing a funeral 
face.” 

“I ’m not trying to spoil anybody’s vacation,” 
protested Madelon, with so martyr-like and so in- 
jured an air that Mrs. Heathcote laughed outright, 
and administered a merry little shake. 

But try or not, Madelon succeeded in spoiling 
that first holiday afternoon for four girls beside 
herself. She carried her moody frown down hill 
with her when they went coasting, and she turned 
from the snowball fight on the lawn with weary 
contempt. She was ‘ 4 sick of games.” No; she 
didn’t feel like singing. And Lee declared aside 
to the others : 

“I think she’s real selfish.” 

Dinner was delayed that evening, awaiting Dr. 
Heathcote, who was belated. The young people, 
all of them hungry, were gathered in the hall, 
outside the dining-room door. Madelon ’s mouth 
was still set in a hard line, and her frigid expres- 
sion seemed to chill the entire company, for, from 
Ned down to Peter Pan, nobody could think of a 
word to say. 

Raymonde ’s nerves could stand it no longer. 
She rolled up her handkerchief into a ball and 
fired it at Tommy. 

“ Earth!” she cried, and counted, “One, two, 
three, four, five, six, seven — ” 


112 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


4 4 Ah-ah-ah — um-um-um — b-b-b — lion! ’ 9 shouted 
Tommy, just before the number ten was reached. 
Then she shot the handkerchief at Lee. 

4 4 Air ! One-two-three-f our-five-six-seven-eight- 
nin e-ten!” 

4 4 Tiger! I mean American eagle !” gasped out 
Dixie. 4 4 Tommy, that ’s not fair to count so 
fast.” Too late Lee had named the inhabitant of 
the air, and now she had to hand over her garnet 
ring as a forfeit. 

There is nothing like the good old-fashioned 
game of 4 4 Earth, Air, Fire, and Water” for driv- 
ing one out of the dumps. When you are hit with 
the handkerchief and then hear the challenge: 
4 4 Water!” 4 4 Air !” or 4 4 Earth!” you must respond 
with the name of an inhabitant of the element 
given, before your assailant counts ten, or pay a 
forfeit. Back and forth flew the handkerchief 
ball. 

4 4 Earth!” The missile hit Madelon. 

“Governesses!” she replied with a wry face, 
and fired the handkerchief at Ned. 44 Water !” 

4 4 Germs!” solemnly answered the doctor’s son. 
4 4 Fire ! 9 y 

This time Pet was struck. 44 C-C-Codfish ! Oh, 
fiddle! I thought you were going to say water 
too!” And Peter Pan, who should have kept 
silence, for nothing can live in fire, yielded up her 
beloved silver bracelet. Then she aimed at Ken- 
neth. 4 4 Air!” 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 


113 


“ Planes,’ ’ lie supplemented. 

“That ’s no fair! Aeroplanes aren’t alive. 
Pay a forfeit.” 

i ‘Excuse me — an airplane in action includes 
the pilot — he ’s alive and a flier. What more do 
you want?” 

They allowed Kenneth to escape paying a for- 
feit this time; but he was caught presently. 
Madelon’s quilt had been left hanging over the 
hall settee, and in a luckless moment his eyes 
wandered to the flags of all nations. The sight 
sent him off into a brown study. The handker- 
chief ball roused him, hitting him on the cheek. 

“ Water!” sang out Raymonde. 

And Kenneth, his gaze resting on the animal 
that adorns the scarlet flag of Siam, absently re- 
plied : ‘ ‘ White elephant. ’ ’ 

“A forfeit!” cried the laughing girls, and he 
surrendered his watch. 

“Now let ’s redeem the forfeits,” Raymonde 
proposed. “I ’ll hold them over your head, 
Maddie.” 

Then Madelon had her revenge for having been 
shaken out of her fit of the dumps. She decided 
to put the owners of the forfeits through truly 
Herculean tasks to redeem their property. 

“What shall the owner of this do?” inquired 
Raymonde, as she held up the last trophy. 

“Fine or superfine?” 

“Fine.” 


114 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


The dark eyes danced, and Madelon made an- 
swer: “Translate that Japanese poem, or what- 
ever it is, that ’s written on the sun flag in my 
quilt.” 

“Jimmy!” responded Kenneth. “It ’s up to 
me to study Japanese ! ’ 9 

“Yes, sir! You won’t get your watch back till 
you Ve translated every word,” declared Ray- 
monde. 

But Kenneth’s awful prediction that for lack of 
his watch he would he late in returning to Beau- 
fort after the holidays and thereby suffer military 
disgrace, caused the maidens to relent. He was 
told that he might leave in their keeping a substi- 
tute for his watch. On the hat-rack hung his 
military cap, the front decorated with a metal 
ornament, two little swords crossed. 

“I ’ll surrender my swords,” said he, and, lift- 
ing down the cap, removed the miniature sabers 
and handed them to Ray. 

“Are you really going to find out what that 
Japanese thing means, sober earnest?” Madelon 
asked him. 

“I ’m going to have a try at it. I ’ll have to 
copy the stuff first, though.” 

That evening Kenneth labored manfully at the 
writing-table, the quilt with the sun flag at his 
elbow, and around him a row of giggling girls. 
But the baffling strokes, curves, and flourishes of 
the Japanese characters wore out his patience. 


THE MYSTIC SYMBOL 115 

“Oh, good night !” he groaned. “I’m no good 
at this! Try it on Doc.” 

Ned refused to be ensnared, but every girl in 
turn struggled over a first lesson in Japanese pen- 
manship. Kenneth stored away in his pocket 
numerous sheets of writing-paper decorated with 
extraordinary tracings, which he vowed he would 
carry to a Japanese professor. And Raymonde 
.put his two surrendered swords into a little treas- 
ure-box for safe keeping. 


CHAPTER Vm 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 

S EE here, I ’m not going to face the music up 
there. You get off here, and I ’ll take Vic 
up to the stable and then hustle along.” 

Raymonde, mounted on Victory, and her 
brother on a saddle-horse belonging to the major, 
had turned in at the gate of Netley Hall, for that 
day their mother and grandfather had started 
for the south, and Ray’s boarding-school experi- 
ences were about to begin. The cause of Ned’s 
objection to approaching the school building any 
nearer was the consciousness that some seventy 
pairs of bright, inquisitive eyes were centered 
upon his sister and himself. The merry maids of 
Netley were trooping out-of-doors, with skates, 
hockey sticks, and sleds for their afternoon recre- 
ation, and one and all stopped short at sight of the 
two riders. Raymonde, laughing, turned on her 
bashful escort. 

“Ned Heathcote, I ’m going to ride up to that 
cottage in style, so you ’ll have to come along, 
too. What do you think those girls are — 
dragons ? ’ ’ 


116 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 117 


“No; I think they ’re peaches, but they ’re 
staring at me as if I was a two-humped crocodile. ’ ’ 

“They ’ll stare worse if you run away from 
them,” was Raymonde’s warning. “Come on! 
There are Dixie and Pet and Tom all three wav- 
ing at us.” 

“All right.” Ned resigned himself. “Only 
don’t go introducing me down the whole line. 
I ’ve got to hustle home again, honest Injun.” 

The students at Netley Hall roomed in cottages 
around the campus, and it was toward one of these 
pretty little houses that Ned and Raymonde turned 
their horses’ heads. Before they could reach the 
cottage steps, they found themselves fairly 
mobbed by the Girls of Old Glory, so popular was 
Ned’s merry-hearted sister. Heedless of his re- 
quest to the contrary, she introduced her brother 
to as many of her classmates as were still un- 
known to him, before she allowed him to escape 
and lead her horse away to be lodged in the stable. 
Victory was to board at Netley as well as his 
mistress, only he was entering the riding-class as 
Raymonde’s mount. 

After the other girls had gone off to skating- 
rink and coasting hill, Lee, Peter Pan, and Tommy 
led Raymonde to her new abode. 

“I ’m so glad we ’re to room together,” she 
said to Dixie and Pet. 

Gloom instantly overspread the faces of her 
friends. Their countenances became utterly woe- 


118 THE GIBLS OF OLD GLOBY 


begone, and so did her own, as Peter Pan burst 
out with a disgusted: 

“Oh, but you ’re not, after all! No such luck 
for us !” 

“What!” gasped Baymonde. “I ’m not to be 
with you — ” 

“No, ma’am! There ’s a new girl just come a 
few minutes ago, and Miss Cleveland says you ’re 
to room with her . Let ’s all three haze the crea- 
ture as hard as we can.” 

“I ’se gwine trick dat no’ count new gal,” 
vengefully threatened Dixie, who was fond of 
amusing her northern schoolmates with the dialect 
of her old colored mammy. 

Wrathfully Baymonde fired a snowball at an 
unoffending piazza post. 

“Oh, dear! Isn’t that the meanest luck! I 
think it ’s a perfect shame I can’t room with 
you girls. I was counting on it. Why, it was the 
best thing about coming here. And Miss Cleve- 
land told me positively she was going to put me in 
with you.” 

“Ole Miss sholy am hard hearted,” was Lee’s 
disrespectful comment on the principal of Netley 
Hall. “Honey chile, mah poh li’l heart done 
break all to flinders kase we can’t hab you! 
Wahoo! Wahoo!” Dixie dropped down on the 
cottage steps and began to rock herself to and 
fro, wailing dismally. 

“You don’t sound very broken-hearted, you old 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 119 


Br’er Rabbit,” remarked Ray, giving her a shake. 

Lee wailed the more dismally. 

i ‘ Well, I ’ll have to put up with that new girl, 
I suppose,” grumbled Raymonde. “I can’t chase 
her home again. What ’s she like, anyhow?” 

Pet distorted her face in a grimace intended 
to express her supreme distaste and replied, 
“She ’s a charmer !” 

“So are you, Peter Pan, when you wrinkle up 
your nose like that. What ’s her name?” 

“D-d-didn’t ask her.” 

“I didn’t either,” said Tommy. 

“You don’t seem to be much interested in her,” 
said Raymonde. “But I am, considering I have 
to be tied to her till Easter. Do you know her 
name, Dixie?” 

Lee stopped her wailing to answer with in- 
dignant scorn: 

“Yoh reckon I ’d waste mah time, sociatin’ wid 
poh white trash?” 

Raymonde laughed despite her fallen hopes. 

“Well, I ’ll have to find out for myself, then. 
Where have they put us? I didn’t know there 
was an inch of space left except in your room.” 

“You ’re to be in Number 12,” replied Lee. 
‘ 1 They ’ve turned that little study into a bedroom 
for you.” 

“Good!” said Raymonde. “I have the pick of 
the house in rooms then — if not in room-mates! 
And I ’ll be next door to you; that ’s one comfort. 


120 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Come along, girls. I ’m going to see if it ’s a 
pink-eyed albino they ’ve given me.” 

“Now don’t you dare to be friends with that 
creature!” was Lee’s parting order, as they left 
Raymonde at the door of Number 12. “If you do, 
I ’ll stalk in some night with a poisoned dagger. 
Beware the jealousy of a fiery Southerner!” 

“When you see me next,” returned Ray, “I 
shall be in my war-paint, and her scalp will be 
dangling at my belt. ’ ’ 

Raymonde opened the door to find that twin 
dressing-tables and white beds, fresh muslin cur- 
tains and a chintz-covered divan, gay with scarlet 
poppies, had transformed the study into the cosi- 
est of little homes. But she wasted no more than 
a glance on the pretty room. Her interest cen- 
tered upon the two persons whom she found there, 
standing by the window. One was a lady, tall 
and fair, in velvet and furs, the other, a girl, who 
had laid aside her coat and hat. The next instant 
there resounded through the hall a cry, a wild 
whoop of ecstasy. Raymonde and the girl whom 
she had been about to scalp were locked in each 
other’s arms and spinning like a giant top, round 
and round in the middle of the room, in a delirium 
of bliss. The lady, meanwhile, had sunk down 
upon the divan, laughing at the spectacle. 

Flushed and gasping, the two whirling dervishes 
came to themselves sufficiently to drop down on 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 121 


the nearer bed and express themselves in words 
instead of inarticulate shrieks of laughter. Ray- 
monde’s new room-mate was neither pink-eyed 
nor white-haired. Her eyes were as dark as night 
and so were her long locks. 

“Madelon! Madelon D’Arcy! Have you 
really, truly, honestly come here to school, to be 
my room-mate ?” 

“Raymonde Heathcote, I really, truly, honestly 
have. To be your room-mate is the only thing 
that ’ll keep naughty Maddie Madcap behaving 
herself! Isn’t that so, Aunt Edith? Come and 
be introduced to Auntie, Ray.” 

So Raymonde was presented to Mrs. Morgan, 
who declared: 

“I don’t know what would have happened to 
Madelon if I had kept you two apart any longer, 
or to me either. I think we should both of us have 
come down with nervous prostration !” Then she 
bade the reunited friends good-by, adding: 
“Now, Madelon, dear, you will be a good girl, 
won’t you, and not do anything to worry me? I 
wish to have my mind perfectly free while I’m 
down at Palm Beach.” 

“I’ll be a lamb and an angel — I promise! 
Good-by, Auntie dear! I ’m so glad I was a 
naughty girl before, so I had to be sent to board- 
ing school. But I ’ll be as good as gold now.” 
Madelon threw her arms around Aunt Edith’s 


122 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

neck with a devotion that ruffled that lady’s fur 
collar and so disarranged her hat and veil that she 
retreated to the looking-glass for repairs. 

When Mrs. Morgan had gone, Raymonde shook 
Madelon and hugged her, by turns. 

“You scamp of a Maddie Madcap! You never 
let out a word about coming here.” 

“I thought I ’d give you a good surprise,” 
laughed Madelon. “But I didn’t know it my- 
self till New Year’s.” Here a giggle from the 
doorway betrayed the presence of Lee, Pet, and 
Tommy. 

“Girls! Girls!” cried Raymonde. “Made- 
lon ’s the room-mate I was getting ready to scalp ! 
And you knew it all the time, you monkeys ! Now 
own up ! ” 

“D-d-didn’t I tell you she was a charmer?” 
returned Pet, triumphantly. “I didn’t ask her 
name because I didn’t have to. Knew it al- 
ready!” 

“But none of the other girls know she ’s come 
yet,” said Lee. “Miss Cleveland smuggled her 
in just a few minutes before you came, to surprise 
you.” 

“But how did it happen?” asked Raymonde. 
“Has Mademoiselle Trenaye gone?” 

“Yes; she’s going back to France,” replied 
Madelon. “Her brother ’s been wounded in the 
war, and she wants to see him. And, oh, Ray, she 
was a perfect dear! What do you think she did? 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 123 

She told Aunt Edith that it was n’t good for me 
to be all alone with a governess. She said what 
I needed was a hoarding-school and to be with 
plenty of other girls, and I ought to go to Netley 
Hall and be with you. And Auntie saw it was 
making me perfectly ill to lose you ; so she wrote 
to see if there was room for me at Netley, and 
Miss Cleveland said she ’d take me. Oh, is n’t it 
fun? Isn’t it fun?” 

Mrs. Mills, the housemother of the cottage, 
looked in at that minute and, driving the other 
girls away, bade Raymonde and Madelon unpack 
their trunks without more ado. 

“Ray, you ’ll have to teach me how to unpack. 
I never did such a thing in my life,” said Madelon, 
eyeing her trunk helplessly. 

“It ’s time you learned then, you baby!” 
laughed Raymonde. “Come on, and I ’ll give you 
your first lesson in unpacking.” 

The hilarious spirits of the two did not exactly 
assist the progress of that first lesson. 

“Oh, there ’s Miss Meredith, the darling thing P’ 
Raymonde presently exclaimed, as she glanced out 
of the window. “I must run down and tell her 
who my new room-mate is. ” Down-stairs and out 
to the campus she dashed, to greet the young 
English teacher, adored by all her pupils. 

“Is this the princess from the Castle?” sud- 
denly called a voice at the door of Number 12, 
and turning, Madelon saw on the threshold a girl 


124 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

in fur coat and toboggan cap and scarf, swinging 
her skates and smiling. 

“ Yes, I ’ m Madelon D ’Arcy, ’ ’ answered the new 
boarder, thinking her visitor quite the prettiest 
girl she had ever seen. 

From under the fuzzy white cap waved out a 
wonderful fluff of hair that shone a real golden 
yellow. It was this wealth of yellow gold that 
took Madelon ’s heart captive at once and com- 
pletely. But it was not the girl’s only charm. 
This bright-haired specimen of sweet fifteen had 
big, laughing hazel eyes, which, with the darkness 
of their long lashes, contrasted strikingly with her 
blond locks. Her forehead was very white, but 
the sharp winter air and the exercise of skating 
had left in her cheeks a lovely rosy flush. 

“We ’ve all nicknamed you the ‘Princess,’ ” the 
friendly lass continued. “Ray called you that 
first, and everybody took it up. We went sleigh- 
ing past your place before the holidays, and when 
I came home I began to write a story about you 
and your Castle, instead of doing my algebra.” 

“You did?” Madelon laughed at the thought. 

“Yes. I couldn’t help it. It’s so romantic, 
that great big Castle with the tower! And of 
course I had to put you, Princess, in for the hero- 
ine of the story. Only I made you eighteen: you 
had to be grown up, to suit the plot.” 

“Oh, read me the story — do!” begged Madelon. 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 125 


i i Read you my nonsense? Not for anything !” 

‘ ‘ Ah, yes — please !” 

“Not for anything ! Besides, it ’s not finished 
yet. I ’m making a book out of it. Oh, well — 
sometime I ’ll read it to you, maybe. Not now.” 

“You haven’t told me your name yet,” said 
Madelon. “But I think I know it. Aren’t you 
Terese Delano?” She remembered having heard 
Raymonde speak of the class beauty, who not only 
carried off the palm for good looks, but also 
shared with Lee the honor of writing the best 
essays. 

“Yes, I ’m Tessie Del, — that ’s what they call 
me for short. And I ’m going to camp out on 
this divan of yours for the rest of the year.” 
Terese threw herself down on the couch and 
slipped off her coat and cap as if she meant to 
settle there at once. “This is the cutest room! 
I ’m simply in love with it ! And I ’m drowned 
out of my own ! ’ ’ 

“What do you mean?” 

Terese Delano pulled a comically lugubrious 
face. 

“I have the class cry-baby for my room-mate. 
Cheerful for me, is n’t it?” 

“Horrible! What’s the matter with her? 
What does she cry about?” 

“Oh, everything! And now she ’s come back 
homesicker than ever, after the holidays. I ’ll 


126 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

have to buy a life-preserver and a rowboat ! If 
you hear a big splash and cries of ‘ Help ! Help ! ’ 
some night, you ’ll know what ’s happening.” 

“You poor thing!” laughed Madelon. ‘‘You ’d 
better move in here. With this divan, there ’s lots 
of room for three.” 

“You ’re a dear!” exclaimed Terese. “I ’ll do 
it some night — on the quiet, you know — after 
Mother Mills has shut her door. She always 
mouses around after ‘Lights out/ ” Then Terese 
set Madelon laughing by giving an absurd de- 
scription of the poor housemother’s nightly 
vigils. 

“Hello, Tessie Del!” cried Raymonde, rushing 
into the room. “Are you helping Madelon un- 
pack? We ’d better hurry up with our trunks, 
Maddie. Mother Mills popped her head out of her 
room as I passed. She ’ll be after us with a 
broomstick if we don’t hustle.” 

“Then I ’ll skip now/ 9 said Terese. “By-by, 
Princess! I ’ll see you down-stairs.” 

The two beds still resembled fancy-tables at a 
bazaar, when the ringing of a bell announced that 
it was time to dress for dinner. Then ensued a 
wild hurry-scurry, while the flurried unpackers 
bundled their belongings out of sight and made 
themselves fit to appear in the dining-hall of Net- 
ley. As Raymonde was tying Madelon ’s sash, in 
burst Lee and Pet. 

“I ’ve rounded up the 0. G. G. ’s in the parlor,” 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 127 


said Dixie. “They ’re waiting to be introduced 
to the new member before we go over to dinner. 
Hurry up, both of you!” 

Seizing their wraps, the two new boarders ran 
down stairs with Lee and Petronella. They 
found, gathered in the cottage living-room, a 
dozen girls, equipped like themselves with cloaks, 
caps, and overshoes, ready to march across the 
snowy campus to the main building. Terese De- 
lano was cherishing a two-pound box of Huyler’s 
candy, and immediately offered Madelon a bon- 
bon. 

“Here she is, girls!” said Raymonde. “Miss 
Madelon D’Arcy, the illustrious new member of 
the most glorious class in the most glorious school 
in the most glorious country of this glorious earth. 
Give her three cheers!” 

Three cheers they gave her with deafening en- 
thusiasm, and then, with Tommy as cheer leader, 
they added the 0. G. G. yell : 

1 1 Who are we ? Who are we ? 

The glorious defenders of the Star Spangled B. ! 

Rah ! rah ! rah ! 

For the Red, White, and Blue! 

We’re the Old Glory Girls! 

Yankee Doodle Doo!” 

When the din had subsided, Raymonde bowed 
to Madelon. 

“Illustrious new member, I have the honor to 


128 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


present to you the celebrities of our Old Glorious 
Class. Line up, Celebs !” 

The “ celebs’ ’ obeyed, all but one, who continued 
to loll in the depths of an easy-chair. She was a 
large, blond girl with fat, pink cheeks, small, 
twinkling, blue eyes, and lazy good humor stamped 
all over her comfortable countenance. 

“This is our most ancient and venerable mem- 
ber, Georgette Brenner, the class grandmother,” 
said Raymonde. “There is some hope that she 
will graduate by her one hundredth birthday. 
Get up out of that chair, Granny, you lazybones, 
and make a pretty speech to your new grand- 
daughter. ’ ’ 

“If I ’m the class grandmother, my grandchil- 
dren ought to come to me/’ blandly replied the 
most venerable member, who was evidently fur- 
ther advanced in her teens than the others. Re- 
sisting Raymonde ’s tug at her arm, she refused to 
be dislodged from the cosiest chair. 

“All right, Granny, I ’ll come to you , instead,” 
laughed Madelon. Crossing the room, she put 
her hand into the soft, cushiony one, lazily ex- 
tended in welcome. 

“I hope you ’re not a dig,” said Georgette. 
“Let me see if you look like one. No, you don’t, 
not a bit, thank fortune! You ’re what Tommy 
calls a ‘fun-ograph’ — I ’m sure of that. And fun- 
ographs never are digs.” 

“Yes, I ’m a fun-ograpli,” Madelon assented. 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 129 


“You needn’t worry about me, Granny. My 
governess, who ’s just given me up in despair, 
would tell you I ’m not much of a dig. ’ ’ 

“Well, don’t go and catch the habit from 
Dixie,” was Granny’s warning. “She ’s terrible, 
and Lois Langley ’s worse. It makes me tired to 
watch them work.” 

“Dixie’s getting a wrinkle right between her 
eyes; you can see it when she ’s thinking hard,” 
said Raymonde. “That comes from getting a 
hundred in her lessons all the time. And Lois is 
in spectacles already. But Granny never wears 
specs and she has n’t a wrinkle. I know what ’s 
saved her, too. Pinning on her shoe-buttons with 
safety-pins. Isn’t that so, Granny? Oh, by the 
way, Madelon, if you ever rip the cuff off your 
coat, just skewer it on with a hair-pin. It saves 
a lot of trouble.” Raymonde held up Georgette’s 
long chinchilla coat, the cuff of which had been 
mended after the class grandmother’s favorite 
method. 

The introductions countinued. 

“The next celeb is Winnipeg. She ’s twins. 

“And everywhere that Winnie went, 

The Peg was sure to go ! ” 

Thus did Ray Heathcote, mistress of ceremonies, 
present the twin sisters, Winifred and Margaret 
Robbins, each one a round-faced and round-eyed 
copy of the other. Then she led forward a 


130 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


piquant girl with a tip-tilted nose, black, wavy 
hair, and eyes of Irish blue, the archest, merriest 
eyes that ever made a teacher feel like laughing 
and forgiving when her duty was to scold. 

4 4 This is Kathleen McCarthy,’ ’ said Raymonde. 
“She ’s our 4 Paddy from Ireland,’ our 4 Paddy 
from Cork.’ ” 

“Plaise, mum, County Kildare is me ancistral 
home,” corrected Kathleen, who could assume an 
Irish brogue rivaling Lee’s darky dialect. 

“County whatever it is, it ’s the place where the 
Irish fairies that play all the tricks come from, 
and you ’re one of them,” retorted Ray. 

4 4 Whist, me darlint ! Don ’t yez be af ther givin ’ 
me away loike that,” Kathleen expostulated. 
4 4 Sure, an’ ’twas only one little Oirish reel Oi 
danced in the school-room, this study hour ! But 
Miss Meredith — bad luck to her ! — caught me and 
marked me down.” Dropping Madelon a bob- 
bing curtsy, she added: 4 4 And Oi do be plaised 
to meet yez, me colleen. Sure an’ the swate 
pretty face of yez will be afther puttin’ the noses 
of all the Netley beauties out of jint.” 

4 4 You ’ve been kissing the Blarney Stone,” de- 
clared Madelon, feeling sure that she and the 
merry Irish witch would be fast friends. 

4 4 You ’ve met the class authoress already,” 
Raymonde continued, as she waved her hand to- 
ward Terese Delano. 4 4 When we had our Caesar 
quiz, she handed in her exam paper, and the Latin 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 131 

teacher nearly fainted. Instead of ‘All Gaul is 
divided/ she found written, ‘Sir Lancelot Plan- 
tagenet, the Robber Baron of D’Arcy Castle/ 
Oh, wasn’t that the name of it? Well, it was 
something about D’Arcy Castle. Anyway, Tessie 
Del had handed in a page from her last novel by 
mistake. But Signorina Delano is our star musi- 
cian, too. She ’s our first violin, and our last one, 
for we haven’t any others. And she plays the 
piano like twenty Paderewskys. She ’ll play 
your accompaniments when you sing, Madelon. 
Girls, you know Madelon D’Arcy ’s a prima 
donna !” 

The next to be introduced was a dreamy-eved 
girl. 

“Here ’s Sentimental Sue, the class poet,” be- 
gan Raymonde. 

“Give her whole name,” broke in Terese. 
“Susan Rosalys Sylvia Clarice Hedges.” With- 
out giving Raymonde a chance for a word, Tessie 
Del rattled on: “She writes odes to the teach- 
ers and the girls she gets crushes on, and she ’s 
suffering from a heart-breaking sorrow just now, 
because her name is really only Susan Hedges, 
and it is n’t romantic enough. So, as she has n’t 
any middle name, she ’s going to choose one for 
herself and be called by that, instead. She ’s try- 
ing different names to see which she likes best. 
She was Rosalys at Thanksgiving and Sylvia when 
she went home for Christmas; but she read a 


132 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


novel in the holidays, and she ’s come back named 
Clarice for the heroine. And she changes her 
crushes as often as she changes names. She was 
in love with Ray at the beginning of last term. 
She said Ray was the only girl in school with real 
violet eyes. But when Ray asked her what kind 
of violets they were like, purple or white ones, 
or yellow dog-tooths, she was so offended, she 
threw her over for a senior !” 

“Oh, Tess, you Ye too silly to-night !” snapped 
the poet, her cheeks now aflame. 

“Never mind, Sue,” said the owner of the vio- 
let orbs. “I ’m sure 1 ’d give anything to be able 
to write lovely poems. But I can’t, any more than 
a turnip.” 

“I wish you ’d write me a poem,” Madelon said 
to the ruffled bard; and she smiled so winningly 
that Susan was captivated on the spot and began 
to gaze dreamily at her new classmate, as if an 
ode was already forming in her poetic brain. 

“Watch Susan Rosalys Sylvia Clarice looking 
spoony at Madelon D’Arcy,” Kathleen observed 
to Terese. “She ’ll have a crush on her now.” 

Raymonde’s merry shafts were received in 
good part by the other victims of her humor, in- 
cluding Gladys Fiske, the “class peacock,” who 
was always arranging and rearranging her pretty 
hair, and Isabelle Muller, the “alarm bell,” who 
was continually hearing burglars and mice after 


THE MERRY MAIDS OF NETLEY 133 


“Lights out” and smelling smoke in the middle of 
the night. 

“Where ’s Lois Langley?” asked Ray, as she 
finished her introductions, for Terese Delano’s 
room-mate was nowhere to be seen. 

Terese shrugged her shoulders. 

“Oh, she rushed up-stairs again just before 
you came down.” 

“Lois looked as if she was going to cry,” put 
in Winnie Robbins. 

“She generally is going to cry,” remarked 
Terese. 

“Only when she ’s homesick,” began Peg, 
Winnie’s twin. 

“And that ’s always,” Terese declared. 

“You hurt her feelings, Tess,” said Tommy. 
“You were real mean.” 

“Everything hurts her feelings,” Terese com- 
plained. “She boohoos if you look at her!” 

“Well, Lois must n’t hide away from the grand 
reception,” said Raymonde. “I ’m going to haul 
her down.” 

“Take your umbrella then. You ’ll need it,” 
Terese warned her, and then solemnly proclaimed, 
“Weather forecast: local showers for a week in 
Old Glory Cottage.” 

Some of the girls giggled. Terese fortified her- 
self against the ominous weather with a large and 
nutty chocolate-drop from her box of Huyler’s. 


134 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“ Showers never hurt me,” said Ray. “Oh, 
thank you, Terese! How awfully good of you to 
offer me that delicious candy! Thank you a 
thousand times. Well, if you insist on it, I ’ll take 
a second help.” 

Now, far from pressing her bonbons upon Ray- 
monde, Terese had carefully avoided offering 
them to any one but Madelon. Even two pounds 
of Huyler’s does not last long in a class of six- 
teen; and at Netley, where a single box a month 
was the limit for each girl, strict economy was 
to be recommended. But, like a bird of prey, 
Raymonde had suddenly swooped down upon these 
tempting confections and, before their owner 
could recover from her surprise at the onslaught, 
had lightened the box of half a dozen candies. 

“Well, you have nerve!” exclaimed the de- 
frauded Tessie Del. 

* ‘ Bait to catch the fish swimming in her tears ! ’ 1 
Ray called back over her shoulder, and she 
pranced away, sampling a choice piece of her 
booty, and chanting, “Naughty, nimble, Netley 
ninny, nibbling nice nougat!” 


CHAPTER IX 


MIMOSA 

L OIS LANGLEY was not lying prone upon 
her .bed as was her wont when she had 
reached the most abysmal depths of woe ; but she 
had sunk far enough in the Slough of Despond 
to retire to the divan under the window. Softly 
pushing open the door, Raymonde found her re- 
clining with her face in Terese’s Harvard sofa- 
cushion. No sniffs were audible, but the girl’s 
attitude of utter dejection gave warning that if 
the predicted showers had not yet fallen, they 
were ominously near. Even Lois’s thin little pig- 
tail seemed to have caught an expression of for- 
lornness. How pathetically it dangled down her 
back, that meager braid of a pale tint between 
brown and blond, which Ray called ‘ 4 weak tea 
color”! Yes, that limp little pigtail made its 
own appeal for sympathy. 

Stealthily Raymonde crossed the room, as once 
she had stolen upon the Sleeping Beauty. She 
stopped beside the divan, the occupant of which 
did not stir, and, taking the pathetic pigtail be- 
tween her fingers, pulled it gently as if it were a 
door-bell. 


135 


136 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“ Ting-a-ling-a-ling ! Is Miss Lois Langley at 

homer’ 

Miss Lois Langley almost jumped from her 
couch of sorrow, and a faint squeal of remon- 
strance was her answer to her visitor’s ring. The 
pale little face that was lifted from the cushion 
flushed with mortification at sight of the caller. 
The fish was not swimming in tears. The drops 
were only beginning to fall ; but, as if in prepara- 
tion for the flood, Lois had laid aside the spec- 
tacles that always made her big gray eyes look 
bigger and her small face yet smaller. Her too 
sensitive mouth had a forlorn droop, and her deli- 
cate chin seemed ready to quiver at a careless 
word. Somehow she reminded Raymonde of a 
little, defenseless wild rabbit suddenly routed 
from its safe covert. 

“What are you hiding away from the reception 
for?” demanded Ray. “I ’m introducing all the 
girls to Madelon D ’Arcy. ’ ’ 

“I — I ’m tired,” faltered Lois. “I ’d rather 
stay by myself.” 

“But you mustn’t. You ’ll have to be intro- 
duced. Come along and see if Madelon is n ’t the 
most fascinating thing you ever saw in your life. 
Did you hear about the big surprise she gave me? 
They kept it a secret from me that she was coming 
here.” 

“ Yes ; Lee was telling us,” murmured Lois, in a 
weary little voice. 


MIMOSA 


137 


“Well, come on and meet her, then. I ’ve been 
giving a lecture on the class celebrities. It ’s 
your turn to be lectured on now. ’ ’ 

“I don’t want to be lectured on,” objected the 
timorous refugee. “I don’t like to be made fun 
of.” 

“I won’t make fun of you. I know you don’t 
like to be jollied. Come on.” 

Lois only shrank back. 

“I can’t go down now. Please don’t ask me 
to.” 

“But you ’ll have to, child ! It ’s ten minutes of 
dinner time.” 

* ‘ 1 don ’t want any dinner, ’ ’ protested Lois. ‘ ‘ I 
couldn’t eat any.” 

Kaymonde shook her head with a sudden 
change to owl-like solemnity. 

“You must be ill, then. That ’s a very bad 
symptom, not to be able to eat your dinner. Stick 
out your tongue and let me feel your pulse.” 
She applied three fingers scientifically to Lois’s 
thin little wrist. “I am Dr. Heathcote’s partner. 
Stick out your tongue, I say.” 

Lois smiled weakly. 

“Well, if you won’t obey me, you ’ll have to take 
a big dose of medicine for punishment. Open 
your mouth and shut your eyes. Open!” 

Lois looked as if she did not know whether to 
laugh or be alarmed ; but, being an obedient little 
person, she meekly closed her eyes and opened 


138 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


her mouth. Her teeth shut again over a delec- 
table rose-drop. 

“Um-m-m,” mumbled the patient, crunching. 

1 ‘ Oh, thank you ! ’ 9 

“ Thank Terese,” Raymonde corrected. “I 
hooked it out of her box. Stole it right before her 
eyes ! ’ 9 

“You did!” Lois looked with wonder and ad- 
miration at the author of this deed of derring-do. 
“What did she say!” 

“She said I had nerve. Well, so I have. I ’m 
glad she ’s found it out. Now she ’ll begin to re- 
spect me.” 

“I wish 1 had some nerve,” moaned Terese’s 
room-mate. “But I have n’t. Not a bit.” 

“Never mind, I have enough for us both,” de- 
clared Raymonde. “You stick close to me, and 
I ’ll take care of you. Better take another dose.” 
She caused an orange bonbon to go the way of the 
rose-drop. “Look here, has Terese been teas- 
ing you again!” she suddenly asked. 

Lois colored. She was silent and gazed at the 
carpet. The corners of her mouth drooped once 
more. 

“She hurt your feelings, just now, did n’t she!” 
Raymonde pursued. “Tommy told her she did.” 

A faint nod. 

“What did she say!” 

“I — I don’t like to tell.” 

“You ’re not a tell-tale, are you!” said Ray- 


MIMOSA 


139 


monde, approvingly. ‘ 4 Well, I ’m not either. I 
won’t give you away to any of the other girls — 
honor bright. But you ’ll feel better if you talk it 
out. I don’t believe Tess meant any harm. ” 

“She doesn’t like me for a room-mate,” mur- 
mured Lois, dismally. 

“Well, you don’t like her , do you?” 

“N-no, but — Raymonde, do you have to go home 
again after your mother gets back?” 

“Yes. I ’m only a boarder till Easter.” 

“Well,” Lois went on, “Terese says she ’s had 
enough of me, and as soon as you leave, she ’s 
going to room with Madelon D ’Arcy. ’ ’ 

“She ’d better wait till she ’s invited,” re- 
marked Ray. “Is that all you ’re worrying 
about ? Why, I should think you ’d be so glad to 
get rid of Terese, you ’d be dancing a jig.” 

“Still I don’t like to have my feelings hurt so,” 
complained Lois. “And just now Terese sud- 
denly said, right out before everybody, that she 
was sick and tired of rooming with Low S. Lang- 
ley. She calls me Low S., instead of Lois. She 
says it stands for low spirits, because I ’m home- 
sick all the time.” 

“Terese had better stop the violin and take 
good-manners lessons instead,” observed Ray- 
monde. 

“Was n’t it rude of her?” said poor, little Low 
Spirits Langley. “And she said I was the class 
cry-baby, and they ought to fix a nursery for me. 


140 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


But I can’t help being homesick. I can’t. Oh, 
I want to go home ! ’ ’ 

i ‘ 1 ’ll shake hands with yon there, Chummy ! ’ ’ 
cried Raymonde, with enthusiasm. “That ’s 
what ’s the mater with me! I could n’t help being 
homesick to-day either.” 

Lois looked up with a new sense of comrade- 
ship. 

“Were you really homesick?” 

“You ’d better believe I was ! After I ’d kissed 
Mother good-by to-day, I had to wink like every- 
thing, I felt so teary! And I had a frog in my 
throat when I unpacked her picture. If I go on 
acting like that, I don’t know what ’ll happen to 
me in chapel to-night when they sing the hymn. 
Chummy, we ’ll put a stop to this sort of thing. 
I know ! Let ’s have a wailing match and wail 
ourselves out once and for all. Then we sha’n’t 
have any more tears left, and we ’ll be cured of 
homesickness forever. Come on! Get out your 
handkerchief. No, wait! Hankies aren’t big 
enough for a wailing match. We ’ll use Tessie 
Del’s spangled scarf.” 

While Lois stared in blank amazement, Ray- 
monde helped herself to the spangled mass of pale 
green chiffon protruding from a bureau drawer. 

“There! You begin at that end, and I ’ll begin 
at this, and we ’ll cry up to the middle. The one 
who gets there first shall have the rest of the 
candy. One, two, three, — howl!” Applying a 


MIMOSA 


141 


corner of the scarf to her left eye, Raymonde 
lifted up her voice in a wail that would have 
awakened envy in the heart of an Oriental hired 
mourner. 

“ Why, Lois Langley, you ’re not weeping worth 
a cent! Shame on vou! You ’re laughing! And 
Tess calls you the class cry-baby! You ’re a dis- 
grace to the name!” 

The tearful Niobe of Netley Hall, now that she 
was expressly commanded to weep, was hyster- 
ically giggling, and the more unearthly the wails 
that Raymonde continued to pour forth, the more 
violent the giggles grew. 

“I can’t help it!” she laughed. “You ’re so 
silly ! ’ ’ 

“Don’t hurt my feelings,” Raymonde implored 
in a dolorous whine. “Don’t call me silly — I 
can’t bear it.” 

Lois wiped her eyes, only to giggle afresh. 

“You don’t mind being called silly one bit;. 
You know you don’t.” 

“No more I do!” laughed Raymonde. “And 
you mustn’t mind what old Tessie Del says either. 
She likes to hear herself talk more than any girl 
I ever knew. But she doesn’t mean anything. 
Why, she jollies everybody. Look at the fun she 
pokes at me. I don’t care. I tease back again.” 

“Ray, do you like Terese?” 

“No, I don’t,” was the frank answer. “Never 
did and never shall. She ’s too conceited and try- 


142 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

to-be-smarty. I dote on her candy, though. Why 
didn’t I scoop up a bigger handful while I was 
about it? She ’ll never give me another chance. 
Here, eat up the rest.” 

“No; you have some too,” urged Lois. “Take 
this nice big apricot.” 

“I wish Tess could see us now,” observed Ray- 
monde, nibbling once more. “What you want to 
do, Lois, is to snap your fingers at her. As soon 
as she sees you don’t care a pin, she ’ll leave you 
alone.” 

The persecuted martyr shook her head despond- 
ently. 

* 4 Terese says all the girls laugh at me for being 
babyish. ’ ’ 

“We don ’t either ! 1 never laugh at you, do I ? ” 

“You did once,” was the plaintive reply. 

‘ ‘ My stars ! When ? ’ ’ 

“The day school stopped for the holidays. 
Don’t you remember? It was in the French 
class. I made a mistake in my translation, and 
you and Tommy and Kathleen all laughed at me. ’ ’ 

Raymonde repeated her outburst of merriment. 

“Why, child, it wasn’t you we were laugh- 
ing at. It was Peter Pan. She began to mimic 
Terese playing the violin with all her fine airs — 
behind Mademoiselle’s back. That was what set 
us off. Don’t you remember the nice bad order 
marks we got for it, too, when Mademoiselle 
turned around? But, you precious goosey -poosey, 


MIMOSA 143 

what if we had laughed at you? It wouldn’t 
have killed you.” 

“I can’t stand being laughed at, I never could,” 
Lois protested, the frightened-rabbit look return- 
ing. 

“You ’ll have to learn to stand it, then,” said 
Raymonde, with decision. “Everybody gets 
teased at school. Lois Langley, the matter with 
you is that you don’t know how to give and take. 
But I ’m going to teach you how. I ’ll make you 
go into training, just as Ned has to before a foot- 
ball match. I ’ll be your trainer, your coach.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Lois. 

i ‘ Why, I ’ll stand by you and keep Terese off ; 
but I ’ll tease you just as hard as I can to get you 
used to it. And you ’ll have to tease me back 
again. That ’ll give you splendid practice. 
We ’ll keep it a secret; and when you ’re trained 
you can try it on Tess and the other girls. And 
you won’t hear any more about cry-babies.” 

Suddenly Raymonde threw herself hack on the 
divan, in a gale of laughter. “Oh, goody, goody! 
I have a new name for you, a lovely one. I ’m 
going to call you Mimosa. ’ ’ 

“Mimosa!” repeated Lois. “What are you 
going to call me that for?” 

“Because you are a Mimosa. I found the word 
in the botany, and it means a sensitive plant. 
That ’s just what you are. There ’s a sensitive 
plant in the conservatory at the Castle. Its leaves 


144 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


all shrivel up if you touch them. That ’s just the 
way you act, Mimosa. You shrink right up when 
you think somebody ’s laughing at you.” 

“I know I ’m very sensitive. I ’ve been so all 
my life. My mother says it ’s because I ’m deli- 
cate,” explained the shrinking maiden, as if she 
was rather proud of the melancholy distinction. 

“I ’ll train you out of all that,” Raymonde 
promised. “Mimosa ’s my name for you, though, 
because you are such a silly little goose about your 
feelings.” 

The sensitive plant heard, but did not shrink, 
for in the face of her trainer she read irresistibly 
merry good-will. 

“Yes, you are,” Raymonde insisted. “Goosey, 
goosey, gander ! Why, Mimosa, what ’s happen- 
ing to you? Here I am calling you a goosey and 
teasing you for dear life, and you ’re not shrivel- 
ing a bit.” 

“But I don’t mind your kind of teasing. It 
doesn’t hurt. It feels quite nice.” Lois smiled 
bravely in the face of her coach. “I don’t be- 
lieve I ’ll ever mind your teasing, Raymonde. 
You do it in such a funny, jolly way, and — I think 
Mimosa ’s a real pretty name.” 

The housemother’s voice was heard at that mo- 
ment, calling them to come down and join the 
march to the dining-hall. Lois sprang up, as if 
under the doses of bonbous her appetite had re- 
turned. 


MIMOSA 


145 


“My eyes don’t look red,, do they, Bay! I 
laughed a good deal more than I cried this time. 
Maybe I ’d better give them a dab, though. I 
don’t want Madelon D’Arcy to think I’ma baby.” 

Down-stairs the rest of the girls were filing out 
of the parlor. Terese, pressing forward to reach 
Madelon ’s side, beheld Raymonde and Lois de- 
scending, arm in arm. 

“Caught my fish!” was Bay’s greeting. 

Lois gave her room-mate a mischievous glance 
in passing. 

“Oh, Terese, thank you ever so much for those 
candies, ’ ’ said she. ‘ ‘ They were simply fine. W e 
ate them all. ’ ’ 

“Good for you, my pupil! You’re doing 
grandly!” whispered Mimosa’s trainer. 


CHAPTER X 


EMERALD ESTRELLA 

O H, it ’s so jolly to be here. I feel so light 
and happy ! I ’ve been a prisoner for 
months and now I ’ m free, free, free!” With an 
airy skip at each repetition of the word, Madelon 
went dancing out-of-doors on the way to breakfast 
the next morning. 

Blue and silver were the colors of Netley Hall, 
and it was inspiring even to be wearing the school 
uniform, a sailor-suit of “ Netley blue,” with a 
white tie and white chevrons on the sleeves. 
Madelon and Raymonde were all athrill with the 
exhilaration of the new life. They felt themselves 
full members of a delightfully happy community, 
and the sensation was glorious. 

Breakfast and chapel over, work began in earn- 
est in the main building, and through the hours 
that followed, the girl that had yawned and 
groaned and fidgeted over her solitary lessons in 
the Castle library now proved herself eager and 
alert, showing a zeal for study that won her in- 
stant favor with her teachers. 

“I really liked algebra to-day. I never did be- 
146 


EMERALD ESTRELLA 


147 


fore,” she told Raymonde when school was over. 
“And old Caesar was almost tun. And I simply 
adore history under Miss Meredith! Is n’t she a 
love !” 

In the afternoon Tommy pronounced Madelon 
a good sport, because she was burning with im- 
patience to be taught ice-hockey, and at a class 
meeting in the evening Lee, as president of the 
Old Glory Girls, formally received her into mem- 
bership in the patriotic band. 

That night, when, healthily tired and no less 
healthily happy, she lay down to rest, her last 
words were : 

“Rah! rah! rah! for Netley Hall! Oh, Ray, I 
just love it here!” 

Madelon continued to love it as the days went 
by. What fun it was to run study-races with her 
prince and see which could win the higher marks ! 
Generally they kept neck and neck and close to 
the head of the class, though neither was able to 
overtake Lee, who always had been and always 
would be in the lead. Meanwhile, with her 
sprightliness, and her genius for organizing frol- 
ics, Madelon completely bewitched the galaxy of 
girls whom Raymonde had presented on the first 
evening. Ray wrote to her mother : 

Madelon ’s all the rage here. Everybody thinks she ’s 
perfectly lovely, and poor Susan Rosalys Sylvia Clarice 
is writing padfuls of poetry about her and simply pin- 
ing away from unrequited affection. Sue has a regular 


148 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

— I must not write the word, because it is slang, which 
you don’t like — but it begins with a C and ends with SH 
and has an R and a U in it ; and it is the biggest C — sh in 
the whole school! I tell Maddie, when I want to have 
her to myself I have to break through a crowd ten girls 
deep, all squabbling to get her at once ! Is n ’t it fine to 
think my princess, who used to be so lonely, is having 
such a beautiful time, and that everybody loves her 
so? — 

And what do you think we 0. G. G.’s are going to do 
for little Louis Carrette? We ’ve decided to send him 
to Beaufort Military School when he ’s old enough. 
We ’re going to have a fair every year till we ’ve earned 
enough to educate him. And you just wait, patriot 
Mother, till you see him standing on two galloping horses 
at once and tearing around the parade ground, the way 
Ned says Kenneth does! 

As a matter of fact, Louis Carrette, now a mem- 
ber of the Netley Hall colony, was educating him- 
self without requiring any assistance from his 
patrons. While Madame Carrette worked as 
school seamstress, he was picking up English with 
startling rapidity, and, with the coachman’s small 
son for a playmate, he was becoming 4 ‘Young 
America” with a vengeance. To the horror of his 
maman, he now greeted the young ladies of the 
school with “Hello!” instead of “ Bon jour” ; and 
when Madelon showed him a box of candy that she 
had received from her aunt, and asked him if he 
would like some, little Monsieur Louis, who had 
been taught to say politely, “Herd, Mademoi - 


EMERALD ESTRELLA 


149 


selle , 9 9 had promptly replied, * ‘ Sure ! ’ ’ Decidedly 
it was time for the Girls of Old Glory to take him 
in hand. 

Now Raymonde’s letter was written in that 
first month at Netley Hall, before any one had 
cause to remember the proverb “New brooms 
sweep clean.’ ’ 

January passed, and February. March arrived, 
and the broom was no longer new. Then came the 
first day of really spring-like weather, but it 
brought “spring feelings” rather than spring sun- 
shine. It was damp and drizzly. On such days 
pupils are sure to receive their lowest marks. 

“Ah — ooh — wooh!” yawned Tommy, stretch- 
ing her arms above her head, as she lounged on the 
sofa in the school library, instead of hunting up 
facts about Longfellow’s life for her next essay. 

“Oh, Tommy, I ’d just stopped yawning for the 
first time to-day, and now you ’ve set me going 
again,” complained Madelon. She lolled her 
head on Tommy’s shoulder, and the volume of 
“American Poets” slid from her lap to the floor. 

“It ’s such a lazy day!” sighed Pet. She 
should have been looking up facts, too, but, in- 
stead, she was sketching Tommy’s pug-nose. 

“Have you ever noticed,” said Kathleen Mc- 
Carthy, “that the days it ’s hardest to study, 
the teachers always give you the longest lessons? 
I believe they do it for spite. Ooh — um! I 


150 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

couldn ’t study to-day if you paid me for it. ” She 
pillowed her head on Madelon’s lap and closed 
her eyes. 

“Maddie! Maddie D’Arcy! Where are you? 
Oh, there you are!” rang out a voice, the reverse 
of sleepy. In came Terese Delano, her golden 
hair in a fly-away state indicative of high excite- 
ment, her cheeks very pink, and her eyes very 
bright. She had a page of a magazine in one 
hand and a letter in the other. “I ’ve been hunt- 
ing all over for you, Mad,” said she. 4 ‘Look at 
this !” 

Making a place for herself by shoving Kath- 
leen’s feet from the sofa to the floor, Tessie Del 
spread out the page cut from an illustrated 
weekly journal, and pointed to a column with large 
head-lines. This benevolent weekly devoted a 
space to encouraging the efforts of amateur writ- 
ers. It was always urging them to compete in 
prize-story contests, and now a new contest was 
beginning. The paper offered two hundred dol- 
lars for the best drama and promised to place it 
afterwards with a first-class photo-play company 
for production on the moving-picture stage. 
Think of it! The sudden leap from obscurity to 
fame! The glory of seeing your own play in 
photographic reels, appearing in a theater, in 
many theaters, in city after city ! 

“There!” said the class author. “Now what 
do you think of that?” 


EMERALD ESTRELLA 151 

“Well, Tess, are you going to try for it?” asked 
Madelon. 

“Maybe. Listen to what Dot says.” Terese 
read aloud from the letter of her chum at home: 

“ ‘I send you the ad, because you ’re a genius, and 
you ought to try for the prize.’ ” 

“ ‘ Genius’! I ’m nothing of the kind! Dot ’s 
silly about me,” complaisantly said the author. 
“I ’ve a good mind to try, though, for the fun of 
the thing. Do you dare me to, girls f ’ ’ 

They all dared her immediately. 

“All right then! I ’ll do it. Don’t tell any- 
body, though. Maddie, do you know what ? I ’m 
going to take that novel that I began to write 
about your Castle, and turn it into a play. I 
think it ’ll write up better as a play than as a 
novel. Novels are so long, you know, and you 
get tired of saying ‘he said’ and ‘she said’ all the 
time, and having to tell how they came in and 
how they went out and all that. Now in a play 
you just stick the names of the people who speak 
on the edge of the page and say ‘enter’ and ‘exit.’ 
That ’s easy enough.” 

“Don’t tell the paper people you ’re only fifteen 
or maybe they ’ll say you ’re too young,” said 
teasing Tommy. 

“My cousin had a story published in this very 
paper when she was only sixteen ’’ replied Terese, 
with dignity. 

“And Tessie’s story’s fine!” said Madelon. 


152 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“It ’s very exciting. She read some of it to me. 
It ’ll make a splendid play.” 

“Read it to us,” begged Peter Pan. 

“What ’s the name of it?” asked Kathleen. 

“I ’m going to call it ‘Emerald Estrella.’ ” 
“‘Emerald Estrella’! Arrah, but that’s a 
name!” cried Kathleen, with affected rapture. 
“Sure and she must be a Paddy like me, straight 
from the Emerald Isle! ‘Emerald Estrella’! 
And is the face of her grass-green?” 

“Now, Paddy, don’t try to be funny,” said 
Terese. “You ’re not funny a bit, really. 
You ’re only fresh.” 

Kathleen subsided with her hands meekly folded 
and one eye winking at Tommy. 

“It ’s called ‘Emerald Estrella’ because the 
heroine wears emeralds,” explained Terese. 
“She ’s an orphan heiress, and she lives in a 
house just like the Castle. I named her Madelon 
at first, but Estrella suits the Emerald better. 
She ’s inherited a casket of family jewels. 
There ’s a beautiful emerald tiara in it. ’ ’ 

“What ’s a tie-ar&V’ inquired Tommy, the ir- 
repressible. ‘ ‘ Some kind of a necktie ? ’ ’ 

“No, goose ! It ’s a jeweled thing you wear on 
your head, a kind of a crown. Estrella’s came 
from the Orient. It was hundreds of years old 
and worth a fortune. One night she wore the 
tiara to a fancy-dress ball, and then she lost it.” 


EMERALD ESTRELLA 153 

“Too bad!” sympathized Tommy. “Did she 
joggle it off, dancing?” 

“No, you silly! Of course not! The villain 
stole it. He ’s an Italian villain, Count Montague. 
He took it when Estrella was getting into her 
limousine after the ball. Her maid was carrying 
it for her, and he had bribed the maid to give it to 
him. ’ * Then Tessie Del told in alluring terms the 
plot of her melodrama. 

The tale ended appropriately in the finding of 
the lost emeralds by the hero, Lionel Clifford, who 
was the heir to great wealth, but who preferred 
the simple life of a ranchman to the splendors of 
his inheritance. Disguised as a cow-boy, he re- 
turned in triumph from his quest, after many 
startling adventures, bringing the tiara, and, as a 
natural consequence, won the fair Estrella’s 
hand ; and, the marriage over, they lived happily 
ever after, as Terese somewhat tritely remarked. 

“Why was he disguised?” asked Kathleen. 

“Oh, why, — it ’s more exciting, and then after 
the wedding he reveals who he is.” 

“A multi-billionaire,” murmured Tommy. 
“Tess, you sure will get the prize.” 

“If only I can find time to finish it !” said Tessie 
Del. 

“Let me help you,” proposed Madelon. 
“Let ’s do it together. I love to act plays, and I 
don’t see why I couldn’t write one too.” 


154 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

4 4 Well — you might help a little,’ ’ assented 
Terese, cautiously. 4 1 If you spoil anything, I can 
correct it. It ’ll be fun, writing the thing to- 
gether. I ’ll let you fix up Count Montague’s 
part. You ’ve been in Italy, so you ’ll know how 
Italians ought to talk.” 

During her stay in Italy, Madelon had, unfortu- 
nately, neglected to cultivate the acquaintance of 
its villains. Nevertheless, her ambition was 
fired, and she pledged herself to do her best. 

4 4 Listen,” went on Terese, 4 4 if Mad and I write 
the play, you girls will have to help us act it. I 
want to try every scene after it ’s done, to see if 
it ’s staged right, and to get the proper scenic 
effect.” 

4 4 Scenic effect!” How impressive that 
sounded ! 

4 4 We girls must each of us choose a part,” 
Terese explained, 4 4 and as fast as I get an act 
written, we ’ll rehearse it. We must keep it a 
dead secret, of course, and not let anybody know 
what we ’re doing. But some day we ’ll give the 
whole play before the school.” 

44 I speak for the villain’s part!” cried Tommy. 

44 Now, Tom, wait! I’m the stage-manager, 
and it ’s my business to give out the parts. You 
wouldn’t do for the villain. Villains ought to 
have raven hair and hooky noses, and you have 
flaxen hair and a pug.” 

44 I ’ll shoe-black my hair and buy a Punch 


EMEEALD ESTEELLA 155 

mask,” said Tommy. 4 ‘Pm the villain or no- 
body.” 

4 4 Oh, do let Tommy be the villain! She ’ll be 
rich !” coaxed Madelon. 

There being a dearth of 4 4 hooky noses” in the 
present assemblage, Terese yielded. 

4 4 All right. She ’ll do better than Pet or 
Paddy, anyhow. And there ’s no other part that 
will suit her as well. She couldn’t possibly look 
like the hero.” Tommy grimaced. 

4 4 And, Tess,” said Madelon, 4 4 you must be 
Estrella. The heroine must have golden hair; 
and it ’s your play, so you ought to have the big- 
gest part. And Eaymonde would be splendid as 
the hero.” 

44 No, she wouldn’t,” Terese contradicted. 

4 4 The hero must be dark, because I ’m fair. But, 
Mad, you ’d make a stunning Lionel. You ’re 
dark and so sort of dashing! I won’t have any- 
body but you for Lionel Clifford. Now for the 
other parts. Let ’s see : there ’s Mona, the vil- 
lain’s wife — ” 

4 4 Sure, and I ’ll be plaised to be the lady vil- 
lainess,” put in Kathleen. 

4 4 Oh, no, Paddy! You wouldn’t do at all! 
Mona ’s very good, and she ’s always weeping and 
fainting when she hears of her husband’s crimes. 
No, you must have a funny part. You can be the 
French maid, only don’t you dare talk Irish!” 

“Let Sentimental Sue be the villain’s wife, 


156 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


then, ’ suggested Madelon. ‘ ‘ She ’d love a f ainty 
and floppy part. ’ ’ 

“Perfect!” laughed Terese. “And Georgette 
can be Estrella’s deaf chaperon. All she has to 
do is to fall asleep in the right places. And, Pet, 
you can be Estrella’s best friend, who ’s the maid 
of honor at her wedding. Then you won’t have 
to talk much, so it ’s no matter if you do stutter.” 

“But where does Ray come in? We mustn’t 
leave her out,” Madelon reminded the stage-man- 
ager. 

“And don’t forget Dixie,” said Pet. 

“Oh, we can’t have them in too,” answered Tes- 
sie Del, impatiently. “I haven’t parts enough 
for them, nor for any of the other girls in the 
class either.” 

“Make parts for them,” advised Madelon. 

“Can’t. It would spoil the play. Dixie and 
Ray would n’t be satisfied just to come in and 
dance at the ball, without saying anything.” 

“All right, then — I won’t act at all without 
Princey,” announced the Princess Madelon. 

“I won’t act without Dix,” added Peter Pan. 

“Well, but, girls, listen,” said Terese. “I ’d 
want to have Dixie and Ray as much as you do 
if we could let them in without their spoiling 
everything. But they ’re so awfully fussy about 
keeping the rules. They — ” 

“But acting a play isn’t breaking the rules,” 
Madelon interrupted. 


EMERALD ESTRELLA 


157 


“No, of course not. Only — don’t you see — 
we ’ve got to keep this a secret. We don’t want 
the whole school to know about it. If we can’t 
have it a secret, I won’t do it at all. But we ’ve 
no chance to rehearse in the daytime, and if we 
went off by ourselves and acted it after dinner, 
the other girls would come poking their noses in 
to see what we were up to. So the only time to 
rehearse is at night, up in the play-room, after 
‘Lights out.’ ” 

“B-b-but that ’s against the rules,” objected 
Peter Pan. 

“Oh, yes, I know there ’s some kind of a foolish 
old rule about it!” Terese agreed. “And that ’s 
what I say. Ray and Dixie are so painfully good ; 
they ’re sure to make a fuss.” 

Madelon was silent. She looked as if she was 
hesitating. 

“Well, but, Tess,” began Tommy, “it ’s self- 
government here, and we ’re sort of on honor to 
keep the rules we ’ve made.” 

“The rules we We made!” Terese echoed. 
“You did n’t make them, and 1 did n’t make them. 
A lot of seniors made them ages ago. I say if 
one set of girls can make the rules, another set 
can unmake them. ’ ’ 

“I say so too!” chimed in Kathleen. “Come 
on, Tom! It ’s no harm. It ’s only fun.” 

“Specially if we ’re caught and hauled before 
the council,” remarked Tommy. 


158 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Now to risk being brought before the council, 
that awe-inspiring body composed of prefects 
elected from among the Sixth-Form girls and sev- 
eral of the teachers, required no little boldness. 
But Terese declared: 

“They won’t catch us if we keep our eyes open. 
And then we can do so much good by it, ’ ’ she con- 
tinued artfully. “Do you know, it just struck 
me, if I can get the prize, we can use some of the 
money to help send Louis Carrette to Beaufort/ ’ 

“And Louis is such a darling little fellow,” said 
Pet. “We ’ll be mean old selfishes if we don’t try 
to help him every way we can. ’ 9 

“Wouldn’t it be sport to surprise the class by 
handing in the whole two hundred dollars!” ex- 
claimed Madelon. 

“Maddie, what a gorgeous idea!” cried Kath- 
leen. “Why, that ’s ever so much more than we 
could make with our stupid little fairs!” 

“I did n’t say I was going to give all the money. 
I said some objected Terese. But she added, 
“If the photo-play people take ‘ Emerald Estrella,’ 
though, they ’ll probably ask me to write more 
plays, and then we can make more money for 
Louis.” 

“And when we act the play before the whole 
school, we can sell tickets for it, can’t we?” sug- 
gested Kathleen. “Girls, we ’ll earn enough to 
send Louis to Beaufort all by ourselves.” 

“But I don’t see why we can’t rehearse it be- 


EMERALD ESTRELLA 159 

fore we go to bed, and have Dixie and Ray in it 
too. I ’m sure yon could think up parts for 
them,” said Peter Pan. “Then we sha’n’t get 
into any p-p-p-pickles. Besides, it won’t kill us 
if the girls do look in the windows.” 

“Now, see here! This is my play and not 
yours returned Terese. “I have all the trou- 
ble of writing it, and if I can’t have it my way, 
I ’ll give it all up. And then poor little Louis 
Carrette won’t get a cent. And then I hope 
you ’ll feel mean!” 

They yielded, one by one. Every argument 
that a timid conscience raised, Tessie Del defeated 
by a counter-argument. Tommy was the last to 
surrender. She could not quite drive out of her 
mind the annoying thought that they were “sort 
of on honor,” as she expressed it. 

“Oh, come on, Tommy Thompson!” burst out 
Terese at last. “Don’t be a worse goody-good 
than Low S. Langley!” And, rather than be 
branded a ‘ 1 goody-good, ’ ’ Tommy, thirsting for a 
lark, gave in. 

“I hope Ray won’t mind when she finds she ’s 
been left out in the cold,” said Madelon. “I ’d 
hate to hurt her feelings.” 

“Her feelings won’t be hurt,” declared Terese. 
“Why, she ’s the most good-natured girl in 
school! She has a perfectly lovely disposition. 
The only trouble is, she ’s too good. Why, I don’t 
believe Ray Heathcote could ever get mad!” 


160 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Well, Dixie knows how to get mad, and then — 
just you look out!” said Petronella. 

Having taken the first step in law-breaking, 
even Tommy and Pet found it surprisingly easy 
to follow the forbidden path. When Susan and 
Georgette had been summoned to the secret con- 
clave, the seven actresses formed themselves into 
a theatrical troupe called “The Will-o’-the- 
Wisps,” because, as Madelon explained, they were 
mysterious and flitted by night. All chose new 
names for the purpose of signing secret notes to 
each other, Terese and Madelon being known as 
Jack-o’-Lantern and Firefly. 

The Will-o’-the-Wisps became cautious. When 
the dramatic author and her colleague bent zeal- 
ously over copy-book pages in study-hour, none 
but the initiated knew that the emerald tiara and 
not Latin or French, was the object of their toil. 
And when Tommy assumed a swaggering air and 
convulsed the algebra class by twirling imaginary 
moustaches, only the conspirators knew that Net- 
ley Hall harbored an Italian villain. 


CHAPTER XI 

WILL-0 ’-THE-WISPS 


’ /'"'I IRLS, do you think it would be any prettier 
VJT to call her Eglantine instead of Estrella V 9 
anxiously inquired Terese. 

The Will-o’-the-Wisps considered. Then Made- 
Ion said emphatically : 

“No, not Eglantine. The lantine part ’s pretty, 
but I can’t bear the egg." 

This frank opinion was expressed as the dra- 
matic troupe sat in council in a secluded corner. 
Presently Raymonde, the unsuspecting, came by 
and found the seven conspirators talking in un- 
dertones and giggling rapturously. She asked 
what fun was up, but she was met by shrugs and 
tittering and that exasperating reply, “Oh, noth- 
ing much. ’ 9 Indeed there was a general air about 
the seven, which hinted that, though they were 
too polite to say so, they preferred her room to 
her company just then. This was the first of nu- 
merous occasions on which Raymonde was made 
to feel that her absence, rather than her presence, 
was desired by Terese, and even by Peter Pan, 
Tommy, and her own princess. At the start she 
tried to blind her eyes to the uncomfortable truth, 
101 


162 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


telling herself that the cause was merely some 
joke of the moment. Then one afternoon she 
came upon Jack-o ’-Lantern’s cipher message. 

Madelon ’s half of their room was now ha- 
bitually in a state of disorder. While her 
thoughts were roaming the fields of dramatic lit- 
erature, her brush and comb were apt to find their 
way to her writing-desk, and her books, pads, and 
pencils to her dressing-table. The school mar- 
shals were sure to arrive for room inspection, 
when she was “just going to put everything to 
rights,’ ’ and so, in mercy to her, Raymonde had 
taken to arranging Madelon’s half of the premises 
when tidying up her own. 

On this day of discovery, as she was restoring 
her friend’s mislaid gloves to their proper haven, 
Ray found in the pretty glove-box, where they sel- 
dom reposed, a card, bearing first the words, 
“ Will-o ’-the-Wisps, attention!” Then came a 
number of cabalistic signs, and lastly, in place of 
a written signature, a pen-and-ink sketch of a 
sprite with a pumpkin lantern for a head. When 
Madelon came back from her piano lesson, Ray- 
monde held up the trophy with mischief in her 
eyes. 

“See my valentine!” she said. 

“Where did you find that?” Madelon made a 
snatch for the card. 

Raymonde sprang a,way with her prize. “I 
found it in your glove-box along with the brace- 


WILL-O’-THE-WISPS 


163 


let you thought you ’d lost forever and fifty cents 
and a chocolate cream and half a ginger snap and 
two notes in Tessie Del’s writing. Your gloves, 
dearest, were in your soap-dish.” 

“Many thanks for finding my property for me. 
Here, hand over that card.” Madelon made an- 
other futile snatch. 

“Finding ’s keeping!” returned Eaymonde, 
dancing away. She dodged behind beds, chairs, 
and divan, with Madelon in pursuit. “Tell me 
who the Will-o ’-the-Wisps are and what those 
signs mean and that pumpkin-headed creature: 
then I ’ll give it back,” she bargained. 

“S ’posing I don’t know,” suggested Madelon. 

1 1 S ’posing you do, though, ’ ’ Raymonde retorted. 
“Maddie Madcap, you wrote that card yourself.” 
“Oh — did I?” 

“You did. Or else Tessie Del did. And the 
Will-o ’-the-Wisps mean you and Tess and Pet and 
Tommy and Kathleen and Georgette and Sue. 
Now own up.” 

“What wild, delirious raving!” murmured 
Madelon, sinking down upon the divan, and 
dreamily closing her eyes. 

“I know what you scamps are about !” declared 
Raymonde. “You’ve been getting up a secret 
society.” 

“No, we haven’t. Secret societies are against 
the law here.” 

“Much you care about the law! Passing 


164 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


notes to Tess all study-hour!” exclaimed Ray. 
“You ’re up to something anyhow. You ’re al- 
ways whispering and laughing together, you girls, 
and the minute I come along, you stop.” 

“It ’s not polite to whisper before people,” 
Madelon gently reminded Raymonde. 

* “Then you ’d better speak out. Princess, 
you ’re a nice one, you are, to have secrets with 
that crowd of girls, and leave your prince out in 
the cold!” Darting nimbly past the divan, Ray- 
monde used Jack-o ’-Lantern’s card to slap her 
prostrate friend smartly on the cheek. 

“Ouch!” cried Madelon, springing up to renew 
the chase. “You needn’t talk! How about the 
secrets you have with Lois? You won’t even tell 
me what 4 Mimosa’ means.” 

“I told you to look in the botany, and you ’re 
too lazy,” said Raymonde. “I ’m only having a 
little fun with Lois to brace her up and help her 
to stand on her own feet, that ’s all.” 

“Well, we girls are only having a little fun, 
too — that ’s all,” mimicked Madelon. 

“Then why don’t you let Dixie and me into it?” 
persisted Ray. 

“We felt you and Dixie were above anything so 
frivolous,” teased Madelon. 

“Ah, Maddie, tell me, please , what you ’re up 
to ! You ’ll never get your card back till you do.” 

The prince pleaded. The princess teased. 

“Ah-ha! Who ’s got the card, now?” Tak- 


WILL-O’-THE-WISPS 


165 


ing Raymonde off her guard, Madelon had grasped 
the disputed treasure; but it tore in two, leaving 
the pumpkin-headed sprite in her hand. “You 
may keep the other half to comfort you, Prince. 
By-by! Miss Johnston wants to scold me about 
my algebra.’ ’ 

1 ‘ By-by ! Somebody ’ll have to do her own tidy- 
ing up next time, ’ ’ Raymonde warned her. 4 ‘ And 
I ’ll get even with you yet, Miss Will-o’-the- 
Wisp !” 

After Madelon, whose marks had been falling 
lower and lower, had gone to meet her displeased 
teacher, the mirth died out of Raymonde ’s eyes. 
Presently, despite her threat, she turned to her 
chum’s bureau to finish the work of putting it in 
order; and, as she stood before it, the face that 
looked back at her from the mirror wore no smiles, 
but a troubled frown. It was one thing to have 
her princess a general favorite and quite another 
to see her gathering about herself a confidential 
circle to which even indolent Georgette and Sen- 
timental Sue were admitted, but from which her 
earlier and most loving friend was barred out. 
For some minutes Raymonde stood there, think- 
ing. Finally she addressed this admonition to 
the looking-glass girl : 

4 ‘ Raymonde Heathcote, look at yourself ! Why, 
you beat Mimosa in the mournfuls! Now don’t 
you go and be a sensitive plant ! Grin a little for 
a change, can ’t you ? ’ ’ 


166 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


The looking-glass girl turned up the corners of 
her mouth in a forced smile, and Ray comforted 
herself with the assurance : “I see through it now ! 
April Fool’s Day ’s coming soon. Probably it ’s 
only an April Fool trick they ’re getting up to play 
on Dixie and me. What a silly I am, grouching 
away, just as if Maddie would really go back on 
me.” 

When she confided to Lee her suspicions about 
April Fool’s Day, Dixie replied: 

“I should n’t wonder ! Peter Pan has been de- 
serting me lately, too. Those girls certainly are 
up to something, and they ’re bound we sha’n’t 
find out what it is. I told Peter if she preferred 
the society of Tessie Del and lazy old Grandma 
and 4 Simple Susan’ to yours and mine, good rid- 
dance to her! Never mind, honey, we ’ll pay 
those Will-o ’-the-Wisps back — on April Fool’s 
Day!” 

Before April Fool’s Day came, however, Ray- 
monde was forced to believe that something more 
than an intended practical joke was responsible 
for the clique of the Will-o ’-the-Wisps. Suddenly 
entering Number 12 one day, she surprised Made- 
Ion in conversation with Petronella. Pet was ex- 
claiming : 

“Oh, Maddie, if only you and I roomed to- 
gether ! ’ ’ 

To this Raymonde’s princess assented heartily: 
“I wish we did!” 


WILL-0 ’-THE-WISPS 


167 


* ‘ All right, room together then ! And I ’ll room 
with Lee. She ’s the finest girl in school, and 
worth all the rest of you put together. ’ ’ The two 
confidants started at the indignant voice breaking 
in upon their chat. Pet grew as red as a poppy, 
and even in brunette Madelon’s cheek the color 
mounted. The fire of Raymonde’s displeasure 
was kindled. Who would have thought those blue 
eyes could flash as they were flashing now? 

Madelon’s ready tongue was for once tied. 
Peter Pan began to stammer an apology. 

“We — we d-d-didn’t mean — We only m-m- 
meant — Ray, d-d-don ’t get mad! You don’t un- 
der stand — we only — ” 

“You needn’t apologize. You can’t make it 
any better. I heard what you said.” With that, 
Raymonde marched out of the room, banging the 
door behind her with a sound like a thunder-clap, 
to emphasize her wrath ! 

A few nights afterward some light was thrown 
upon the desire of Pet and Madelon to forsake 
their chums and room together. About the witch- 
ing hour of twelve Lee awoke with a startled cry. 
The door had opened with a creak, and in the dim 
illumination from the hall she saw a ghost-like fig- 
ure stealing into the room. 

“Sh! D-d-don ’t be scared. Go to sleep. I 
didn’t mean to wake you,” whispered a familiar 
voice, and Lee recognized the faithless Peter Pan, 
arrayed in her tall cousin Dixie’s best white dress, 


168 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


which, being over long for Petronella, suggested 
that she had suddenly grown up. 

“For mercy’s sake, where have you been and 
what are you doing with my dress'?” Lee de- 
manded sharply. 

“Hush up, Dix! Don’t wake up the whole 
house!” 

Smothered laughter and a subdued altercation 
broke out at the same time in the adjoining room, 
where Lee’s waking cry had roused Raymonde 
from her slumbers. Wide-eyed and bewildered, 
Ray sat up and beheld Madelon standing in the 
doorway, clad in her gymnasium suit and her rain- 
coat, upon her head a wide-brimmed felt hat tilted 
with what was intended for a dashing, cow-boy- 
like effect, and in her hand her room-mate’s riding- 
crop. 

Giggles and evasions were the only answers that 
the questions of the disturbed sleepers could win; 
but next morning, while dressing, Raymonde called 
her chum to account. 

“Now, Madelon D’Arcy, own up,” she com- 
manded. “There ’s no use trying to wriggle out 
of it, for I know what you were up to last night. 
You were at a dress-up party in one of the girls’ 
rooms.” 

“No,” returned Madelon, “I was not at a party, 
nor in any girl’s room.” 

“You were off larking in the play-room, then, or 


WILL-0 ’-THE-WISPS 169 

somewhere, ’ ’ Kaymonde insisted, “and you know 
you were having some kind of a spread. ’ ’ 

Madelon ignored the illusion to the attic play- 
room, a favorite rallying place on rainy days and 
at present the stage where Emerald Estrella was 
making her debut. 

“Spreads are old-fashioned/ ’ she said con- 
temptuously. “I ’ve never heard of one since I 
came here.” 

“Well, an up-to-date Will-o , - the- Wisp dress pa- 
rade, or whatever it was, you were breaking the 
law as hard as you could break it. It ’s against 
the rules to be anywhere after 1 Lights out’ except 
in — our — own — beds. 9 9 

The law-breaker laughed. 

“A wild Maddie Madcap like me couldn’t keep 
the rules if she tried.” 

“Wild stuff and nonsense ! You kept them well 
enough the first two months.” 

“Yes, and the strain wore me out so, I could n’t 
stand it a day longer!” 

“You ’d rather stand being called before the 
school council, would you, and have the prefects 
and Miss Cleveland herself give you a talking-to 
that you ’d never forget? It would serve you 
good and right,” declared Raymonde. 

“I can take care of myself. I sha’n’t get 
caught.” 

“But, Madelon,” said Raymonde, earnestly, “it 


170 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


isn’t only the being caught. It ’s not fair and 
square to go sneaking off to have larks when 
you ’re supposed to be asleep. I think it ’s de- 
ceitful. ’ ’ 

“Do you dare to tell me I ’m not truth- 
ful?” flashed out Madelon, looking suddenly war- 
like. 

“Oh, now, Maddie! Don’t fire up so. You 
know I did n ’t mean that: I mean it ’s not honor- 
able to go skylarking like this when Mother Mills 
thinks you ’re safe in bed. She trusts you, and 
you ’ll get good conduct marks, just as if you ’d 
really been sound asleep all night. But you won’t 
have earned them fairly, and I should think that 
would make you feel pretty small ! ’ ’ 

“Mother Mills is welcome to catch me if she can 
and mark me as low as she likes,” returned Made- 
Ion. “But when the rules are so stupid, they 
ought to be broken.” 

“Well, if you ’re going to keep on breaking the 
rules, I ’m going to stop you,” Raymonde threat- 
ened. 

‘ i What are you going to do ? ” 

“You ’ll see to-night,” Ray promised. “And 
you ’ll not get out of that door again, I can tell 
you! Madelon, what’s come over you lately? 
You ’re changing so, I hardly know you ! You ’ve 
been different ever since Terese began to twist 
you round her finger!” 

Madelon took fire again. 


WILL-0 ’-THE-WISPS 


171 


“How dare you say such a thing! Terese does 
not twist me round her finger. I ’d like to see 
anybody try to do that ! Nobody can make me do 
what I don’t want to ! I do my own way and no- 
body else ’s ! But I know what ’s the matter with 
you — you ’re jealous.” 

‘ ‘ Jealous!” echoed Raymonde, scornfully. 
“Of Terese Delano? When I get jealous, I ’ll 
choose somebody worth being jealous of. It cer- 
tainly won’t be Tess.” 

It was breakfast time, and, for once, Ray did 
not wait for the tardier Madelon, but ended the 
passage at arms by leaving the room. 

“I ’m not jealous — I know I ’m not,” she was 
telling herself as she hurried down the hall. “I 
could n’t be jealous of Terese! But I ’m sure 
she ’s hurting Madelon, putting her up to break 
the rules and think it ’s no harm; and when 
they ’re found out, there ’ll be an awful time.” 

Madelon appeared to be particularly merry at 
breakfast, chattering glibly with Terese, but not 
once turning her head towards Ray, who scarcely 
uttered a word through the entire meal. 

Raymonde did not forget her promise to keep 
her Will-o ’-the-Wisp chum a prisoner over night. 
A few minutes before “Lights out” that evening, 
she dragged and pushed her bed across the room 
to the door. 

“Whew! This bed’s heavy!” she exclaimed. 

Serenely Madelon watched her warder’s exer- 


172 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


tions, waiting till the bedstead was athwart the 
exit, before she observed: 

“It ’s too bad you Ve had all that trouble for 
nothing. I Ve been planning to sleep right 
through till morning. ’ ’ 

Raymonde had faith in her ounce, or rather her 
ton, of prevention, however, and the next evening 
found her pushing and hauling again. Unfortu- 
nately that disobliging bed refused to make its 
journey in silence, and its luckless owner selected 
for the migration the moment when the house- 
mother was passing down the hall. The bed 
squeaked. Mrs. Mills heard and entered to in- 
vestigate. 

“What are you moving your bed for, child 
she asked. “Have you and Madelon had a quar- 
rel?” 

“No, but — I M rather sleep over by the door,” 
faltered the blushing guard. Yet whence her 
fondness for the door arose, she appeared unable 
to explain. 

Mother Mills objected to the marring of the 
symmetry of the room, and ordered Raymonde to 
restore her bed to its proper locality and cease 
moving furniture to suit her private whims. 

“You rascalina!” Ray burst out, when the 
housemother had gone. “You little wretch of a 
Will-o M;he-Wisp ! Why did n’t you speak up and 
tell her I had to blockade the door to keep you in 
your room at night ? ’ ’ 


WILL-O’-THE-WISPS 


173 


“It pained me too deeply to see you moving 
your bed without permission,” Madelon replied 
solemnly. “I felt you needed one short, sharp 
lesson. ’ ’ 

“Well, take care you don’t get a short, sharp 
lesson one of these days!” retorted Raymonde. 

Meantime, under Ray’s system of hardening the 
sensitive plant, Mimosa was certainly improving. 
She could shrug her shoulders at Tessie Del, and 
even make a very mild retort to some less for- 
midable tease. The “down in the mouth” look 
was giving place to a more cheerful expression as 
the brave little maid fought her battle with the 
sensitiveness of which she had before been rather 
proud. 

A day or two after Raymonde ’s attempt to foil 
Madelon ’s plans, Lois came to her champion at 
recess. 

“Ray,” she said, “I wouldn’t tell Mother Mills 
this for anything. But what do you think Terese 
and some of the other girls did last night?” 

“Had another Will-o ’-the-Wisp lark?” sug- 
gested Raymonde. 

“Why, did you know they had larks at night?” 

“I caught Maddie coming back from one last 
week, and Dixie caught Pet,” Ray explained. 
“They were up to their tricks again last night, 
were they?” 

Lois nodded. 

“Yes; Terese, and I don’t know how many 


174 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


others, but I ’m sure I heard Madelon’s voice. 
This is the second time I ’ve caught them at it. 
Last Wednesday night Tess woke me up opening 
the door. She was going out into the hall, dressed 
up in her pink evening cloak. I asked her what 
was the matter, but she told me to hush up and go 
to sleep. I got so wide awake I couldn’t sleep, 
and it wasn’t till after the clock struck twelve 
that Terese came back. And last night it was the 
same thing over again. I woke up just as she was 
sneaking out, and when she 'came back, I could 
hear the girls whispering out in the hall. And I 
heard Madelon say out loud, ‘ Farewell till we meet 
again, next Monday in the dead of night.’ And 
then somebody said, ‘Sh-sh!’ ” 

“Whew-ew!” whistled Raymonde. 

“Well,” continued Lois, “when Terese came in, 
I spoke right up and asked her what they ’d been 
doing. She was awfully mad, and she said it was 
no business of mine, and if I told, I ’d be the mean- 
est girl in school. ’ ’ 

“If Tess asks me who the meanest girl in school 
is, I ’ll tell her to look in the glass,” remarked 
Raymonde. 

“I did n’t dare tell Terese what I found out this 
morning,” said Lois. “I was hunting for my 
rubbers, and I found under the divan a big copy- 
book, and it said on the cover, ‘Emerald Estrella, 
a Drama by T. D. and M. D ’A. ’ ” 

“Fury!” Ray exclaimed. “That’s what 


WILL-O’-THE-WISPS 


175 


they ’re up to, is it? Why, Mimosa, don’t you 
see? They ’re acting theatricals at night, up in 
the play-room. And those two must have written 
the play themselves. ’ ’ 

“ That’s just what I thought,” agreed Lois. 
“You know Tess is crazy about the stage.” 

“I should think she was, and Maddie too, with 
their ‘Emerald Estrella!’” cried Raymonde. 
“It ’s worse than all Sentimental Sue’s names put 
together. Did you read the play?” 

“No. And please don’t tell Madelon I found 
it. She ’ll go and tell Terese, and then it ’ll be 
awful for me.” 

“No, I won’t tell. But, dear me! They ’ll be 
found out, anyway, and something dreadful will 
be done to them, and Maddie ’ll never get over it. 
She ’ll just have to stop it, and I ’ll make her, 
somehow ! ’ ’ 

Mimosa, looking as if a burden had fallen from 
her shoulders, went out on the piazza in company 
with her French verb book, but Raymonde paced 
up and down the hall, frowning over her knotty 
problem, how to end forever the Will-o’-the- 
Wisps’ midnight flittings. At last she was forced 
to own to herself : “I ’m stumped! Mimosa and 
I ’ll have to talk it over with Dixie. She ’ll want 
to save Pet from a scrape.” 

“What ’s the trouble?” said a blithe voice sud- 
denly, and turning, Raymonde found herself face 
to face with Miss Meredith. 


176 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

A stranger, seeing this favorite teacher, would 
have taken her for one of the school-girls. She 
was only a year out of college, and her pupils had 
nicknamed her “Miss Merry,’ ’ by way of an ap- 
propriate title. 

Raymonde looked down, without replying to the 
embarrassing question. 

“Where ’s Madelon this recess!” asked Miss 
Merry. “You two don’t seem to be together as 
much as usual just now.” 

“Oh, Maddie ’s off somewhere with her dear 
Terese!” 

“Ray, something ’s the matter with you lately,” 
said Miss Meredith. “You ’re not so much of a 
Sunbeam Ray as you used to be. Are you home- 
sick!” 

“Not very.” 

‘ 1 Something ’s worrying you, at any rate. I ’m 
not going to ask you to tell me anything you don’t 
wish to; but a number of things have happened 
lately to make me sure that some of the girls in 
your class are getting rather out of bounds. And 
they ’re losing ground in their lessons, too.” 

Raymonde shot her a swift, questioning glance. 

“Well,” said Miss Merry, lightly, “we all of us 
feel like breaking bounds and smashing rules 
every now and then. Now, Ray, I have a jolly 
little plan in my mind ; and if you and I put our 
heads together, we ’ll get up some fun that will 
help the Old Glory Girls to go on swimmingly in 


WILL-0 ’-THE- WISPS 


177 


their plans for Louis Carrette, and stir them up 
to doing better in class too. We ’ll have some fun 
that ’s the right kind and has plenty of snap and 
go in it. ’ ’ 

* ‘ Oh, Miss Merry! You darling! That ’s just 
what we need! Can’t we get up some acting? 
Madelon would simply love that, and it would be 
lots more fun than a stupid old fair for Louis.” 

“Fine!” answered Miss Meredith. “I’ll in- 
vite all the class to my room some day next week 
and get the fun started. Only, Ray, don’t tell the 
girls that we have a plot brewing. It might keep 
the magic from working. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XII 


OLD GLORY DEFIES THE FOE 

T HE hall clock had lately chimed half past ten. 

It was more than an hour since the 4 4 Lights 
out” bell had sounded and darkness had fallen 
upon Old Glory Cottage. Only the corridor out- 
side the girls’ doors remained dimly illumined 
through the night, and there the Will-o’- the- Wisp 
Dramatic Troupe was assembling. The abode of 
Tommy and Kathleen was the greenroom in which 
the actors had stored their 4 4 make-up” and from 
which they emerged, a motley crew, strangely and 
variously costumed. 

4 4 Jack! Jack-o’-Lantern!” whispered the 
Will-o’-the-Wisp with the cow-boy hat. 4 4 Did 
Lois wake up this time?” 

4 4 No, Firefly,” responded the maiden with the 
green bead necklace on her golden head. < 4 I ’m 
in luck for once. Lois was sound asleep.” 

Silent as phantoms, the actors glided on their 
forbidden way. They crept past the first and 
most deadly danger-point, the housemother’s 
room. No attack from that quarter. Mother 
Mills, who firmly believed that the least noise 
awakened her, slept on as profoundly as Lois her- 
178 


OLD GLOBY DEFIES THE FOE 179 


self was apparently sleeping. Breathing more 
freely now, the troupe stole into the unlighted hall 
of the wing. Carefully the rear guard closed the 
door between the two halls to shut off any sounds 
from the region of the attic stairs. And now Tes- 
sie Del’s newly acquired flashlight did good serv- 
ice. Guided by its rays, the band proceeded, 
safely passing the second danger-point, the room 
of Annie, the cottage maid. Without arrest, they 
reached the curtained entrance to the stairway. 
At the top of the flight was a door, and beyond 
this portal lay the cold and pitch-dark garret and 
the more comfortable play-room fitted up with an 
electric light. Terese drew hack the curtain at 
the foot of the staircase, and, throwing the beam 
of her candle upon the steps, one by one, led the 
way upwards. 

“Oh, — why, — look! What ’s that?” Terese 
halted abruptly. 

A start and shudder ran down the line of fol- 
lowers. They feared they knew not what. Sue 
stifled a scream. Pet and Kathleen gripped each 
other. Madelon, pressing close to her leader, saw 
what Terese saw. As the electric candle was 
lifted higher, its light had fallen upon the door 
above, and in the wide disk of radiance were re- 
vealed broad stripes of red and white. Higher 
the hand of Jack-o’-Lantern raised the flashlight, 
and the stars of the Union shone out from a field 
of blue. 


180 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

‘ 4 Girls, it ’s our flag! And look what ’s on it!” 

Shielding the entrance to the attic and out- 
spread over the door, behold the Stars and Stripes 
covered the way ! But the sight of Old Glory con- 
fronting them was not the only shock that the law- 
breakers received. Across the flag ran a long 
band of black, and upon this dark background 
blazed in huge gilded letters a stern and timely 
warning : 

Patriots, Your Country’s Flag Bars the Way 
And Forbids You to Enter. 

To Tear Down the Flag is to Dishonor it. 

To Dishonor the Flag is a Crime! 

In cautious undertones the guilty seven gave 
utterance to their discomfiture. 

“Good gracious! They ’ve found us out!” ex- 
claimed Kathleen. 

“Lois went and told! Just like her, the horrid 
little telltale!” fumed Terese. 

* ‘ But this is some of Ray ’s work. I know her, ’ ’ 
declared Madelon. “She went home Saturday to 
see her father, don’t you remember? That ’s 
where she must have made those letters. The lit- 
tle wretch!” 

“I know Dixie helped! I ’ll pay her back!” 
said Peter Pan. 

“It ’s a jolly good joke on us, anyhow,” 
chuckled Tommy. “They ’ve nailed it down 
tight.” 


OLD GLORY DEFIES THE FOE 181 


Sure enough ! The Stars and Stripes had been 
tacked firmly to the door-frame above, below, and 
on each side. 

‘ ‘ But how did they know we were going to meet 
here to-night ?” wondered Sue. 

“Lois must have overheard us talking about it, 
the little sneaky !” answered Mimosa’s vengeful 
room-mate. “You were so careless, Madelon! 
You talked right out loud in the hall, coming back 
from the last rehearsal.” 

“Well, now you ’re mad, you ’re screeching 
yourself, loud enough to wake the whole house,” 
snapped back the accused Madelon. 

“I ’m not either! Don’t be so cross.” 

“Don’t be so cross yourself.” 

‘ i Sh — sh, girls ! Stop scrapping or Annie ’ll 
hear you,” warned Georgette. 

“Ochone! They’ve fixed us now!” mourned 
Kathleen. “We can’t get through with the flag 
there, and we can’t tear it down. We ’ll just have 
to go back and rehearse in our room, Tommy.” 

“Yes, with Mother Mills at the other end of the 
hall!” scoffed the wary Georgette. 

“Girls,” said Teres.e, “we ’ve got to get this 
flag down somehow, and that ’s all there is about 
it.” 

“How are you going to get the tacks out?” 
asked Tommy. “We need a claw-hammer. Who 
wants to go down to the garden tool-house at this 
time of night? I don’t.” 


182 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Nobody else did. 

“Give me your paper-knife, Tom,” said Terese. 
“Maybe I can dig the tacks out with that. Hold 
the light for me, Mad.” 

Tommy handed up the paper-cutter, which had 
served as the Italian villain’s dagger. Terese 
succeeded in breaking off its ivory point, but not 
in dislodging any tacks. 

“Maybe I could pry those tacks up with scis- 
sors,” said Kathleen. 

Tommy daringly went back to the danger-zone 
in search of a pair, taking the candle with her and 
leaving the rest to sit in darkness on the stairs. 
She returned to announce : 

“I ’ve lost my scissors and I can’t find Paddy’s 
either. Our things are in such a mess ! ’ ’ 

“Bother it all! We ’ll just have to pull the flag 
loose,” grumbled Terese. “You pull at that end, 
Mad, and I ’ll pull at this.” 

“Stop, Tess! Don’t!” Madelon caught her 
colleague’s hand. “If you jerk it you ’ll tear it. 
We must n’t tear the flag, whatever we do.” 

“If you tear down the flag, it really is a crime,” 
said Petronella. “I ’m sure a person could be 
put in prison for it. I reckon it ’s high treason.” 

“Hand up the flash, Tom,” said Terese. Hold- 
ing the light close to the border of the flag, she 
subjected the tacks to a careful scrutiny. “Oh, 
goody! This corner one looks loose.” Laying 
her candle on the step beside her, she applied the 


OLD GLORY DEFIES THE FOE 183 


broken paper-cutter to the hopeful-looking tack. 

The tack refused to yield, but Estrella’s emer- 
ald tiara was less securely anchored. The green 
glass beads chose that crucial moment to slide 
from their owner’s head and drop with a rattle 
down the stairway. Turning hastily to rescue 
them, the luckless Tessie Del hit the flash-light 
with her foot and sent it rolling. Bump! 
Thump! Then black darkness! The fall had 
ruined the electric bulb and bereft the Will-o’-the- 
Wisps of their only light. Smothered wails of 
woe burst forth. 

“Oh, my precious candle! It ’s broken,” al- 
most wept Terese. “Girls, you idiots! Why 
could n’t you catch it?” 

“Why c-c-couldn’t you keep from k-k-k -kicking 
it off?” retorted the resentful voice of Peter Pan. 

“Well, we ’re done for now,” was Madelon’s 
verdict. “We can’t take down the flag and we 
can’t stay here shivering till morning. We ’ll 
have to feel our way back if we can.” 

There was nothing for it but to effect a mas- 
terly retreat with as little noise and stumbling as 
possible. 

4 4 Find my candle ! Find my beads ! ’ ’ poor Tes- 
sie Del implored, crawling down on hands and 
knees and feeling for her lost treasures. 

“Here are your beads! I found them by step- 
ping on them. ’Fraid they’re smashed,” an- 
nounced Tommy. 


184 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Then came a shriek and a thnd, followed by the 
exasperated voice of Kathleen, exclaiming: 

‘ ‘Here, take your old candle! I slipped on it 
and had an awful tumble. I nearly broke my 
back.” 

“You nearly broke mine too. You pushed me 
right over, ’ ’ Sue indignantly complained. 

Bumping and groping, the victims of cruel for- 
tune reached the foot of the stairs. Clutching 
each other, they crept down the dark hall of the 
wing, till Tommy, pushed by the girls who were 
clinging to her, collided with a door. This door, 
being ajar, swung wide open, noisily knocking over 
an umbrella that leaned against it; and Tommy, 
impelled by the impact of three other girls, fairly 
tumbled into a fresh abyss of darkness. 

“And who are ye, cornin’ into me room at this 
time o’ night?” an unmistakably Irish voice cried 
out in angry accents. 

“It’s only we girls. Annie — sh! Don’t yell 
out. You’ll wake up Mrs. Mills. We didn’t 
mean to disturb you.” 

“And what did ye mane then, bangin’ open me 
door?” demanded the offended cottage maid, as 
she pressed the electric button by her bed. 

The light shone upon a cluster of scared faces 
and on her own red, wrathful one. 

“Gurls, can I belave me eyes ! Miss Tessie and 
Miss Maddie and Miss Tommy ! Miss Kathleen ! 
Miss Pater! Shame on ye all! And is it crazy 


OLD GLORY DEFIES THE FOE 185 


ye ’ve gone, riggin’ np for Hallowe’en in the 
springtime? Oh, I heard the nise ye was makin’ 
on the stairs ! And now I know who it was makin ’ 
a racket over me head the other night. I says to 
mesilf, ‘Is it burglars or is it rats?’ Now I know 
what ye do be up to, havin’ parties in the play- 
room when ye ought to be in your beds. What ’ll 
Mrs. Mills be sayin’, I wonder, when I go to her 
in the mornin’ and tell on ye?” 

“Oh, Annie, don’t tell Mrs. Mills! Please 
don’t!” the Will-o’-the-Wisps besought. “We ’ll 
never do it again. We promise on our honor.” 

“Annie mavourneen, you wouldn’t go and tell 
and get me into a scrape, when I ’m Irish, too,” 
wheedled Kathleen. 

They coaxed, they implored, while Annie in- 
sisted : 

“I ’ll not have me slape disturbed this way. 
I ’ll not stand anny sich annoyance.” Gradually, 
however, she allowed herself to be melted. 
“Well, then,” she said, at last, “I ’ll hold me 
tongue for this once. But I ’ll slape wid me two 
eyes open after this, and me door ’ll be open too. 
And if I catch annybody disturbin ’ me again, I ’ll 
go straight to Miss Claveland herself and tell on 
the whole of ye. Now be off to your beds, and 
mind ye stay there till mornin ’ ! ” 

Annie and the Star-Spangled Banner together 
effectually put a stop to the revels of the Will-o’- 
the-Wisps. None were so foolhardy as to risk 


186 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

another trip through the dark hall, when an Irish 
watch-dog, of dangerous temper, was sleeping 
hard by with two eyes open. 

Terese declared that ‘ i Emerald Estrella” would 
have to he finished and sent oft without any more 
rehearsing, and that, if her drama failed to win 
the prize, the blame must be laid upon “that lit- 
tle telltale, Lois, and the other prigs.” 

Then came Miss Meredith’s invitation to the 
Girls of Old Glory to gather in her room for a 
sociable evening. They arrived. She treated 
them to lemonade and fudge, and, while they 
sipped and nibbled, she questioned them about the 
proposed fair for the benefit of Louis Carrette. 
All seemed to share Raymonde’s opinion that it 
would be a “fizzle.” 

“Then,” said Miss Merry, “why not give some- 
thing that won’t be a fizzle? Wouldn’t it be fine 
to give a patriotic pageant? Don’t you girls love 
to act? I do. Now what would you think of our 
writing a play ourselves? I used to write plays 
for the girls to act when I was at college. Sup- 
pose we all take hold together and write a patri- 
otic drama, and then we ’ll give it before the whole 
school for Louis’ benefit. We must charge ad- 
mission, of course, and with all the girls and all 
the teachers and the friends of the day-scholars, 
we ought to have a splendid audience.” 

This proposition was received with enthusiasm, 
and so “The Patriot’s Vision” came to be written 


OLD GLORY DEFIES THE FOE 187 


for production on the Netley stage. Miss Mere- 
dith was the chief composer, hut such authors-in- 
the-bud as Terese and Lee were allowed to wield 
their pens in this good cause. 

The Patriot in this drama — she to whom the 
vision came — was an Old Glory Girl who set out 
upon a quest to find how she could best serve her 
country. Wandering thus, she came to a garden 
where there appeared to her a queenly maiden in 
flowing garments, with a mantle of red, white, and 
blue. The arms of our nation were emblazoned 
on the shield that she bore, for this mysterious 
damsel was Columbia herself. To her the Girl 
Patriot told the object of her quest. Then Co- 
lumbia waved a magic sword and conjured up 
“visions of the days departed/ 7 

Group by group there appeared Indians, James- 
town settlers, Pilgrim Puritans, gentle Quakers, 
Colonial dames with quilted petticoats and pow- 
dered hair, and soldiers of 76, hoop-skirted ladies 
of the days when the North rallied around the 
Stars and Stripes and the South around the Stars 
and Bars, and pioneers with their faces toward the 
Golden West. Each scene was in itself a playlet, 
and in each some noble virtue of our forefathers 
formed the theme. Columbia commanded the Girl 
Patriot to treasure the precious heritage left by 
the builders of our nation, the steadfastness and 
truth of those who came across the seas for “free- 
dom to worship God,” the brotherly love of the 


188 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

peaceful Friends, the loyalty of those who shed 
their blood for their ideal of right, the courage 
and self-sacrifice of soldier and pilgrim and pio- 
neer. 

Then suddenly there entered a band of enemies. 
They were led by Selfishness. He pushed rudely 
into Columbia’s garden, claimed its fruits and 
flowers for his own, and refused to share them 
with any one. “I live for myself alone!” he an- 
nounced. “My ambition is to be first in every- 
thing!” Following Selfishness, and clinging to 
his cloak, was a trembling, furtive-looking crea- 
ture, whose hat, pulled forward to hide his face, 
bore the word “Cowardice.” Greed came next, 
hugging a bag of gold and groping and grasping 
for more. Then Dishonesty sneaked in, trying to 
trick the Patriot and pilfer from her on the sly. 
Finally into the garden rushed two violent foes. 
One tried to tear down the Stars and Stripes from 
its place above Columbia’s throne. The other 
carried a scroll which, he shouted, contained the 
laws of the country. This scroll he tore into tat- 
ters and, flinging the fragments to the ground, 
stamped upon them. These fierce intruders were 
Disloyalty and Lawlessness. 

“Up and to arms, Patriot!” cried Columbia. 
“Your flag is again in danger! Your country is 
invaded ! ’ ’ 

Then she armed the Girl Patriot with a sword, 
bearing the motto, “In God we trust.” Before 


OLD GLORY DEFIES THE FOE 189 


the loyal maiden, advancing sword in hand, the 
invader^ fell back in retreat, and in their stead 
appeared a band of children, knocking at Colum- 
bia’s gate. From Europe and the East they came, 
little aliens in every variety of costume. Colum- 
bia welcomed them all, making them salute the 
flag and pledge allegiance to it. In the closing 
tableau the Patriot was seen standing with sword 
and banner, surrounded by this flock of children, 
for Columbia appointed her their leader, bidding 
her train them to be good citizens, loyal, cou- 
rageous, and true. 

‘ ‘Why, Miss Merry!” exclaimed Ray, when the 
drama had been read aloud before the class. 
“Our play says just what my grandfather said. 
We asked him to give us something patriotic to 
do, and he just said, ‘Be the best citizens you 
can.’ I understand better what he meant, now.” 

“The Patriot’s Vision” was a pageant with a 
large caste. Nearly every girl in the class had 
two or three roles, and in the last scene little 
pupils from the Lower School, including even 
midgets from the primary grade, were to take 
part as the flock of alien children. The star of 
this immigrant band was to be Louis Carrette, a 
real, live Belgian refugee, as Madelon expressed 
it, and his mother had been appointed chief cos- 
tumer for the whole theatrical troupe. 

Terese was chosen for the part of Columbia. 
No other girl suited the role so well as she, tall 


190 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


and golden-haired and graceful. Bnt she ex- 
pressed surprise that Miss Meredith should select 
Lois for the heroine of the play. Shy Lois 
begged for a lesser part, but Raymonde enthusi- 
astically seconded the choice. Ray’s own favorite 
role was that of the benign Quaker, William Penn, 
with his ‘ ‘ thee 9 9 and 4 ‘thou. ’ ’ Madelon delighted 
most in playing Pocahontas, and she made so be- 
witching an Indian girl that it was no wonder she 
captured the heart of John Rolfe, while Lee 
reveled in appearing as Powhatan with a real war- 
club from the school museum. Tommy was glori- 
ous, “ swashbuckling,” as Ray put it, in the cos- 
tume of the militant Pilgrim, Miles Standish, with 
Kathleen, a most coquettish and un-Puritanlike 
Priscilla, at his side; and Pet had the honor of 
impersonating Betsy Ross making the first flag. 

All was going prosperously now. Madelon was 
becoming more and more like her old self again, 
and this was fortunate for Raymonde, who was 
destined presently to feel a fresh twinge of home- 
sickness. One day Dr. Heathcote, arriving at the 
school, broke the news to his daughter that she 
was not to come home in April, but to remain a 
boarder at Netley Hall till Commencement, her 
brother, meanwhile, staying at Huntwell Academy. 
Her father had decided to take a much-needed va- 
cation. He was to go south after Easter, join her 
mother and grandfather, take them to spend a few 


OLD GLORY DEFIES THE FOE 191 


weeks at a mountain resort in Virginia, and bring 
them home early in June. Lee, the first to learn 
the news from Raymonde, administered a hug, 
declaring : 

“ Honey, I ’m awfully glad you can’t run away 
from us till summer. After having you all this 
time next door to me, I just couldn’t spare you.” 

Lois was the next to hear the tidings, and her 
face grew radiant at the thought that her cham- 
pion was to be at her side to the close of school. 

“I can’t help being glad you have to stay,” she 
said. ‘ ‘ I could n ’t get on without you. I ’m 
really happy here now, with you, Ray. But I ’d 
never be able to stand losing you. Now I sha’n’t 
have to at all. Oh, I am so glad ! ’ ’ 

Madelon ran in presently to search the room 
for some missing music. She hailed the news with 
a wild hurrah, and tossed her whole assortment of 
pieces into the air, to the detriment of their pages. 
Ray held her at arm’s length and, as much in 
earnest as in play, looked searchingly into her 
face. 

‘ ‘ Princess, are you sure you don’t wish I were 
going home, so you could have Terese for a room- 
mate!” 

Madelon burst out laughing at the idea. 

6 ‘ Horrors ! I should n ’t have a pin or a hand- 
kerchief left if I roomed with Tess. She ’s the 
worst borrower! She ’s borrowed my gold pen- 


192 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


cil now, and can’t remember where she put it. 
I ’d like to see Tessie Del finding my lost things 
for me and saving me bad-order marks the way 
you do. Princey, don’t be a goose. I couldn’t 
exist without you.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 

T HE PATRIOT’S VISION” was to be given 
in the auditorium before the whole school, on 
the evening of Memorial Day, and the proceeds 
of the ticket-sale were to help send Louis Carrette 
to Beaufort. After their Easter vacation the 
Girls of Old Glory had brought back with them a 
fine array of costumes, and an excuse for an early 
dress-rehearsal was afforded by Miss Meredith’s 
birthday. After all she had done for them, it 
would be the grossest ingratitude, in their opinion, 
if they did not make her some worthy return. 
They decided to give her a birthday-party at 
which they would entertain her by acting in cos- 
tume their favorite scenes, winding up the evening 
with a banquet. Madelon wrote post-haste to her 
New York chum, Valerie Van Arsdale, to order 
through her a large box of candy for the feast. 

The birthday arrived, and early in the morn- 
ing Miss Meredith, with a pale face, but trying 
to force a brave smile, broke a sorrowful piece of 
news to the class. She had just received a mes- 
sage summoning her home immediately. Her ad- 
venturous small brother, speeding on his wheel, 
193 


194 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


had collided with a motor-cycle and had been 
badly hurt. She was needed at home for a week 
or more to help nurse the boy. But she insisted 
on the girls celebrating her birthday without her, 
and when they declared that they would rather 
wait a month than not have her share the festivi- 
ties, she reminded them that the ice-cream was al- 
ready ordered and that , at least, could not wait a 
month. She assured them that it would only add 
to her troubles if she spoiled their fun, so, if some 
one could take her place as stage-manager, she 
would go off with a lighter heart. Terese 
promptly offered her services, declaring that she 
could easily ‘ ‘ manage the whole thing and act Co- 
lumbia at the same time.” 

After receiving many embraces and much sym- 
pathy, Miss Meredith journeyed home, and the 
gloom that had fallen upon the class lifted when 
in the afternoon Madelon’s great box of bonbons 
and fancy cakes from Valerie arrived. The 
sugary treasures were unpacked in the presence 
of the 0. G. G.’s, and amid general applause 
Tommy announced: 

“Mad, you ’re a brick, and your box is the 
dandiest ever and then some!” 

‘ ‘ Hello ! More riches ! 9 7 said Peter Pan, fishing 
out a small box from the package of confectionery. 
Valerie had labelled it “Red Fire.” 

“Why!” cried Tommy, “that ’s the kind of 
thing you burn on Fourth of July.” 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 


195 


“You witch of a Maddie Madcap! What are 
you up to now!” demanded Raymonde. “It ’s 
Fourth of July tire and no mistake!” 

“It ’s for the pageant, is n’t it, Maddie! ” said 
Terese. “To light up the stage! Oh, perfect!” 

“Yes, it ’s for the Indian scene,” answered 
Madelon. “We must make that as wild and 
weird as we can. I ’ll have the powder ready in 
a pan or something under the kettle, and light it 
as the curtain goes up. Colored fire always looks 
so pretty on the Fourth of July that I asked Val’s 
brother to get me some for the pageant. I did n’t 
tell any of you, because I wanted to surprise you. 
Let ’s burn some at the rehearsal to-night.” 

Valerie’s brother had bought a generous sup- 
ply of the powder. There were several more 
boxes of it tucked away in the depths of the pack- 
age. Tommy, alias Miles Standish, now helped 
herself to one of these. 

“The Pilgrim Fathers ought to have a camp- 
fire!” she exclaimed in a loud voice. “I ’m going 
to have some of the red fire, too.” 

“Sh! Tom, don’t bawl it over the house!” said 
Kathleen. “Do you want Mother Mills to come 
in and pocket it!” 

It had not occurred to Madelon that Fourth of 
July fire might be considered contraband, but she 
started as Lee, suddenly entering the room, asked : 

“What is it you don’t want Mother Mills to 
pocket ! ’ ’ 


196 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

As the others turned at the sound of Dixie’s 
voice, Terese took the opportunity to snatch up 
two or three more boxes of the powder and hide 
them in her sailor blouse. 

“It ’s only some Fourth of July fire for our 
pageant,” explained Madelon. “I ’m going to 
burn some to-night in the Indian scene.” 

“Indoors?” cried Lee. 

“Why not? It ’ll be perfectly safe. I ’ll put it 
in a pan, or if Annie won’t lend me one, I ’ll burn 
it in the kettle itself. ’ ’ 

“They won’t let you,” said Lee. “The fire 
rules are awfully strict here. Why, you know 
we ’re not even allowed to have matches in our 
rooms.” 

“Nobody ’ll be at the rehearsal to see whether 
we burn it or not,” remarked Terese. “Mother 
Mills knows we don’t want her or any other spec- 
tators. ’ ’ 

“But, Tess,” remonstrated Lee, “we ’ll have to 
ask Mrs. Mills. We can’t burn it without per- 
mission.” 

“Permission!” Terese echoed scornfully. 
“The idea! If we ’re such a set of infants as 
that we ’d better have Mellin’s Baby Food instead 
of ice-cream!” 

“Well, we can’t do it without permission, of 
course,” said Raymonde. “Let ’s ask Mother 
Mills now. Oh, I hope she ’ll let us ! It ’ll make 
such a beautiful light!” she added longingly, like 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 


197 


the others, not realizing that the beautiful light 
would be accompanied by a suffocating smoke, if 
the powder was burned in the cottage parlor. 

‘ 4 Don’t ask Mrs. Mills,” advised Kathleen. 
4 ‘She worries so. If you put a thing up to her, 
she always thinks she has to say ‘No.’ Ask one 
of the prefects. Ask Kate Bowman. She always 
sees our side.” 

“All right, ask her, then,” assented Lee. “We 
can do it if she says so, but I don’t believe she 
will.” 

“Come on, Maddie! Let ’s find Kate now,” 
said Raymonde. 

The two went in search of that most sympathetic 
senior, but Kate Bowman was having a singing 
lesson and could not be interrupted. Later in the 
afternoon, however, Terese found the prefect. 

Fully expecting that the red-fire powder would 
be confiscated, if it were known to be in Madelon’s 
possession, Terese warily asked: 

“Would we ever be allowed to burn red fire in 
a kettle at one of our rehearsals?” 

Kate was in a hurry. 

“Certainly not!” she answered promptly. “If 
you give your pageant out-of-doors on Memorial 
Day, they might let you do it then, with all the 
teachers around. But never in the house ! Don’t 
send for any without asking Miss Cleveland.” 

Terese repeated this reply in an abbreviated 
form. 


198 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


1 ‘ She says, ‘ No, ’ — stupid thing ! ’ ’ 

Evening came. As the Old Glory Girls were 
hurrying to their rooms to don their costumes, 
Mother Mills detained them for a word. 

“It never rains, hut it pours !” she exclaimed. 
“Here Miss Meredith has had to leave us, and 
now Mother Keller, over at the Baby House, is ill 
with a sore throat. I shall have to take her place 
there to-night. ,, 

The Baby House was the cottage where the 
youngest boarders roomed, and as the “babies” 
were lively little monkeys, Mrs. Mills was hasten- 
ing there at once. 

“Miss Owen will sleep at this cottage,’ , she said. 
“But she may not get over here till quite late, as 
the teachers have to hold an important meeting 
to-night. Annie will be in all the evening, though. 
Ring for her when you need her. Lee, as you ’re 
president of the Old Glory Girls, I leave you in 
charge. Make it your business to see that the 
lights are out at ten precisely. And all of you 
must go up-stairs on the minute, and be in bed 
by half past ten. Remember. ’ ’ 

“Yes, Mrs. Mills, we ’ll all remember,” prom- 
ised Lee. 

Powhatan’s costume was somewhat difficult to 
adjust, and Ray, having put on her Quaker garb, 
joined Pet in helping Lee arrange her war-bonnet 
and blanket. Returning to her own room, she 
found Terese, with Columbia’s red, white, and 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 


199 


blue mantle about her shoulders, in confidential 
chat with Madelon, to whose Indian dress she was 
putting the finishing touches. The tete-a-tete 
ended abruptly as Raymonde reappeared, and 
Miss Columbia sped back to her own abode. 

Presently a fantastic procession filed down- 
stairs and into the cottage living-room where the 
rehearsals took place. It was led by Columbia in 
her classic robe, with the Liberty cap on her head, 
the shield of the Union on her left arm, and a 
sword in her right hand. Lois, as the Girl Pa- 
triot, followed, a slight little figure dressed in 
white, with ribbons of red, white, and blue, and 
carrying a silk flag. William Penn himself es- 
corted the shy Patriot, and a rosy-cheeked and 
most benevolent Friend was he in his long drab 
coat, with his flat-brimmed felt hat, under which 
an unruly mop of curls was tucked decorously out 
of sight. Threatening the unconscious William 
with a war-club, a redskin warrior stalked on the 
Quaker’s trail — no other than the famous Powha- 
tan, sporting a ferocious Indian mask, the gayest 
of blankets, and a feathered war-bonnet. Powha- 
tan’s daughter was by his side. Pocahontas of 
the long, dark braids wore a fringed buckskin- 
colored tunic, dainty little moccasins, chains of 
colored beads, and a real Indian belt of wampum, 
— like the club, a relic from the school museum. 

A heavy curtain was stretched across the room. 
In front of it stood Columbia’s throne, an arm- 


200 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

chair draped in red, white, and blue hunting, with 
the Old Glory Girls’ flag hanging above it. The 
pageant opened with a row of actors for the audi- 
ence. Columbia seated herself upon her throne, 
and before her the Girl Patriot made a low obei- 
sance and explained her quest. In answer Colum- 
bia waved her magic sword, and 

They who live in history only 

Seemed to walk the earth again. 

The Indian scene was conjured up, — in other 
words, the curtain was drawn aside. The house- 
mother’s India rubber plants did duty as the for- 
est primeval, and, in place of the wigwam that a 
carpenter was to make in time for Memorial Day, 
stood a chintz-draped screen — by a small stretch 
of the imagination easily recognizable as the royal 
tepee. To lend the Indian scene an appropriately 
wild and woodsy air, a quantity of dry Florida 
moss and many rolls of green crepe paper had 
been procured and tossed over a mound of has- 
socks, to represent a lichen-covered rock. In 
front of this rock was an improvised crane, from 
which a big iron kettle hung over a pile of twigs 
and small branches. 

Pocahontas posed gracefully in the foreground 
while she waited for the braves of her tribe to 
lead in their prisoner, Captain John Smith; but 
the mighty Powhatan had been obliged to step 
aside to the parlor mirror to adjust his war-bon- 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 


201 


net, which he felt was slipping from his head. 
The chief, therefore, did not notice what his 
daughter was about ; but Ray — otherwise William 
Penn — in the audience, saw Columbia cross the 
room, whisper to the Indian princess, and take 
her stand directly in front of the kettle, screening 
it from the Quaker’s view. This and a nervous 
giggle from Pocahontas made Raymonde suspect 
that mischief was afoot. Shifting her position 
and moving nearer, she saw Madelon empty a box 
of red-fire powder into the kettle. 

4 ‘What are you doing?” began Raymonde. 

“Making Indian soup. If you bother me, I ’ll 
scalp you.” Then the wild daughter of the forest 
pulled from her belt a box of matches. 

‘ ‘ Fire ! Fire ! A Quaker to the rescue ! ’ ’ The 
ringing shout made the actors turn and the audi- 
ence start. 

Ray had rushed to the table in the corner of the 
room and snatched from it a pitcher of lemonade, 
ready for the refreshment of the troupe. Now, 
pushing Captain Smith out of the way, Quaker 
William broke through the circle of Indians just 
before Pocahontas threw a burning match into 
the kettle. A puff of smoke ! A red flare ! 
Then down came a shower of lemonade, quenching 
the flame and leaving in the kettle a brew not at 
all to the liking of the princess. Before the other 
actors could recover from their surprise, William 
Penn dexterously captured the matchbox and hid 


202 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


it in his coat-pocket. Columbia and Pocahontas 
were both so taken aback by this audacious inter- 
ference that they stood for an instant unable to 
utter a word of protest. 

i i Saved! Saved!” cried the exultant Penn. 
“Pocahontas, thee is saved from the cruel flames. 
Thee shall not be roasted at the stake. Friend 
William has saved thee.” 

Clasped in the arms of her rescuer, the discon- 
certed Indian maiden was danced away clear to 
the other end of the room by the jovial Quaker. 

“Let go of me, will you?” cried Pocahontas, 
as they brought up against the wall. “You ’re a 
mean, hateful old thing! What business did you 
have to go spoiling my fire like that?” 

“Peace; thee is but a poor savage. Thee only 
knows how to war-whoop and scalp,” soothingly 
returned Friend William. 

By this time the excitement had spread through 
the room. The rest of the dramatic troupe gath- 
ered around the peaceful Penn and the indignant 
squaw. 

Powhatan, returning to his original character 
of Lee Armitage, President, hastened to the scene 
of action and demanded : 

“Madelon D’Arcy, how did you dare light that 
red fire after what Kate Bowman said?” 

Here Raymonde received a vengeful tap from 
the sword of Miles Standish. 

‘ ‘ William Penn, you old hoodoo ! ’ ’ cried Tommy. 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 


203 


“What did you go and put that fire out for? 
Why didn’t you let it burn when once it was 
lighted, and let us get some fun out of it? We ’d 
have had a grand scene if you hadn’t gone and 
ruined it all.” 

Reproaches were heaped upon the Quaker’s de- 
voted head by various lovers of lemonade, who 
mourned the loss of a whole pitcherful. But Lee, 
pulling off her mask, checked them with an air of 
authority that became the president well. 

“Girls, listen to me. You know Kate Bowman 
said positively we must not burn the red fire. 
And if a prefect tells you not to do a thing, it ’s 
just the same as if a teacher told you. And Miss 
Cleveland would never allow it indoors, I know. 
And we ’re not going to do anything on the sly, 
I can tell you! No, sir l” 

Columbia had stopped to peer sorrowfully into 
the kettle. Now she came pushing her way 
through the crowd in time to hear Lee’s words. 

“Kate Bowman is a tiresome old fuss!” she 
snapped out. “And, Ray, I think you ’re an 
awful little prig.” 

The benign Quaker patted her gently on the 
arm. 

“Peace, Friend. I do not care what thee 
thinks. ’ ’ 

“Well, you care enough what the rest of the 
girls think, ’ ’ Terese retorted, ‘ 4 and they all know 
how you interfere and try to spoil everything. 


204 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

I ’m Columbia, and Miss Mereditli made me stage- 
manager in her place, and it ’s my business to give 
orders, and not yours/ ’ 

“ Friend, thy temper is a little warm to-night. 
Let me cool it with a shower of lemonade/ ’ said 
the kindly William Penn, and he advanced to- 
ward the table where stood other brimming glass 
jugs. 

Lee faced Terese, and there was a war-like 
gleam in the president’s eyes. 

“ Terese Delano, you know perfectly well that 
Ray is no more a prig than you are. But she ’s 
honorable, and you ’re not.” 

Terese reddened with anger, and Madelon ex- 
claimed crossly: 

‘ ‘ Lee and Ray together are enough to spoil any- 
body ’s fun.” 

Civil war seemed threatening, but Tommy 
averted it by calling out : 

“Come on, girls! Hurry along with the re- 
hearsal. If we don’t look out it ’ll be ten o’clock 
before I ’ve had a chance to act Miles Standish.” 

Scene by scene the rehearsal proceeded, and 
Columbia revenged herself by severely criticising 
every tone and gesture of both Raymonde and 
Lee. But ice-cream proved a better temper-cooler 
than lemonade. When it came time for the ban- 
quet, Annie was rung for, and brought in trayful 
after trayful of Young America’s favorite dessert, 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 


205 


and the spirits of the company rose higher with 
every sweet that vanished from the table. The 
feast over, the stage-manager called the actors 
back to their duty. 

“We must rehearse that Pocahontas scene over 
again,” announced Terese. “Ray upset things 
so, it was simply murdered.” 

Alas, the girls had lingered too long at the 
banquet! Before Lee could put on her mask 
again, the clock chimed the unwelcome news that 
the fatal hour of ten had arrived and the revelry 
must cease ! 

“Oh, shoot that clock!” cried Tommy, menac- 
ing the timepiece with her sword. 

“Put back the hands,” Kathleen suggested. 

President Lee, however, had pledged her word 
that the festivities should stop at ten o’clock to 
the minute, and she called : 

“Time’s up! Come along, everybody! For- 
ward march, up-stairs!” 

“No, we don’t. Not yet,” said Terese, with 
decision. “Stay where you are, girls. I don’t 
care if it keeps us up till midnight. We ’ll have 
to act the Pocahontas scene till we get it perfect.” 

“Sure, Mother Mills niver told us if it was tin 
in the night or tin in the mornin’ we was to be 
lavin’ our fun!” said Kathleen. 

“That ’s so, Paddy! Let ’s wait till the morn- 
ing,” laughed Tommy. And Miles Standish, that 


206 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


stern Puritan, caught Priscilla around the waist 
and began to dance and hop with her about the 
room, both singing: 

“Ten in the morning! Ten in the morning! 
We ’ll stay till ten in the morning.” 

“Come, girls,” repeated Lee. “We must go 
right up, this minute. ’ ’ 

“But, Dixie, Mrs. Mills won’t care,” argued 
Madelon. “She ’s good natured, and she only 
said Hen’ for fear we ’d hang around till half 
past.” 

“No, Mrs. Mills would care,” Lee insisted. 
4 4 She said we must go up-stairs at ‘ ten, precisely. ’ 
Come on!” 

“Oh, now, don’t be tiresome, Miss Interfer- 
ence!” exclaimed Terese. 

“As Lee ’s the president, and Mrs. Mills put 
her in charge, I should think Miss Interference 
was a better name for you!” flashed Raymonde. 

“Well, 1 ’m not going up-stairs, anyhow, not 
till we ’ve been over my Pocahontas scene again,” 
declared Madelon. “Miss Meredith made Tess 
the stage-manager, and you ought to mind her 
to-night.” 

“Well, Lee ’s the president, and you ought to 
mind her to-night and all the time,” Raymonde 
flung back. 

“Columbia ’s more important than presidents,” 
said Georgette. 

“Now, Ray, don’t be a spoil-sport twice over!” 


THE PATRIOT'S VISION 


207 


Madelon broke out. i ‘You 've ruined the re- 
hearsal, putting out my fire, so now you ought to 
stay and make up for it. ' 9 

‘ ‘Yes, it 's up to you , Billy Penn!" cried 
Tommy, pausing in her lively jig. 

“Ah, girls!" exclaimed Lee, “Ray and I want 
to stay as much as you do ; but I 'm in charge, and 
Mother Mills trusts us, and we promised we 'd re- 
member. 9 9 

“You were the only one who promised. The 
rest of us didn't," Terese objected. 

“Girls, I don’t care what Terese says!" cried 
Lee. “We 're all on honor to obey. I promised 
to put the lights out at ten sharp and — " 

“And out they go as soon as I 've counted five," 
said Raymonde, her finger on the electric button. 
“Girls, you'd better skip while you can see your 
way. One, two, three — " 

“Wait! Wait! Oh, Ray!" pleaded the rebels. 

“Four, five!" Snap! Out went the lights. 

Groans and shrieks burst forth. 

“Turn on the light again!" “We can't find 
our way!" “Oh, where am I!" “Ray Heath- 
cote, if you don't light up this minute, I '11 never 
speak to you again ! ' ' 

“Well, if you '11 all be good and go to bed this 
instant, I will," said Raymonde, and made the 
room bright once more. “Now march up-stairs 
before I turn off the light for keeps." 

“I won't stir," answered Madelon. 


208 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“Nice time you ’ll have when Miss Owen catches 
you, then!” said Lee. 

“We ’ll be through before she gets here,” re- 
plied the stage-manager. “I want that scene re- 
hearsed again, and we ’re going to stay till we ’ve 
done it. ’ ’ 

“Not all of us,” Raymonde corrected. “7 ’m 
going now” 

“So am I, and you can’t act the Indian scene 
without Powhatan,” said Lee. “So much good 
it will do you to stay ! ’ ’ 

“ I ’m going too. And you can ’t have any patri- 
otic play at all without the Patriot,” cried a voice 
that had hitherto kept silence through the heated 
argument. Lois shot across the room and, taking 
her stand by Raymonde and Lee, faced the hostile 
forces. Her delicate face was aglow with indig- 
nation. 

“You girls ought all of you to come with Lee 
and Ray,” she declared. “It ’s a shame to stay 
just because Mother Mills isn’t here to watch 
you! You wouldn’t do it if she were around! 
You wouldn’t dare!” 

Raymonde squeezed Mimosa’s hand, whisper- 
ing, “I knew you ’d stand by us.” 

“Come, girls, all of you — do!” Lee urged. No- 
body stirred, though a few looked irresolute. 
“Petronella Armitage, come this instant. 
Have n’t you any sense of honor?” 

Pet stood hesitating, and Terese exclaimed : 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 


209 


“Let those Miss Prigs go! We don’t want 
them! I know all their parts by heart. Girls, 
you ’ve all cut up so this evening that Miss Merry 
would have been disgusted with you. You ’ve got 
to make it up by rehearsing properly. That ’s 
only fair. Everybody who ’ll stay with Madelon 
and me hold up their hand.” 

“ ‘Their hand’! You ’d better study your 
grammar!” jeered Raymonde. 

“Hurry up, girls , and vote to stay,” said 
Georgette. 

Hands went up all over the room, for the troupe, 
as a whole, had lost its head completely in the 
evening’s frolic. 

“I say let ’s have our fun out now, and own up 
to Mother Mills to-morrow. It ’s worth the bad 
marks,” said Tommy. 

She raised her hand. Pet waveringly followed 
suit. All but the faithful Mimosa had sided with 
Terese and Madelon. 

Lee glowered darkly at the rebels. She argued 
and threatened. 

Raymonde said scornfully: 

“Fine Old Glory Girls you are! Oh, you ’re 
a grand crowd to act a patriotic pageant ! 
Wouldn’t Miss Meredith be proud of you! She 
went home trusting you. And you ’ve chosen a 
tine way of celebrating her birthday! You ’re 
acting Disloyalty and Lawlessness mighty well 
this evening.” 


210 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“We ’re as loyal to the flag as you are,” de- 
clared Terese. “That's why we want to make 
the pageant a success.” 

“Well, you ’re not loyal to the school,” cried 
Lee. “You ought to he ashamed of yourselves, 
every one of you. You don’t know what honor 
is — traitors!” She paused a moment to watch 
the effect of her words. Then, as the rebels 
showed no sign of yielding, she fired a last shot. 
“Girls, I ’ll give you five minutes to come to your 
senses. But I tell you plainly, if every one of you 
isn’t up-stairs at the end of that five minutes, 
something will happen that will make you good 
and sorry you didn’t come quick! 1 know a way 
to make you behave. ’ ’ 

The next instant the “traitors” were in total 
darkness. Raymonde had snapped off the light 
again, and the three defenders of the law had quit 
the room. 

“What are you going to do if they ’re not up in 
five minutes'?” Raymonde asked the indignant 
president. 

“Go down again myself,” answered Lee, “and 
tell them that if they don’t march up-stairs ahead 
of me, I ’ll phone right over to Miss Owen and 
tell her she ’s needed over here to keep order. 
When they hear that, they ’ll scamper ! ’ ’ 

Suddenly, as they were on the stairs, they heard 
a call. 

“Hold on, wait for me!” shouted Tommy. 


THE PATRIOT’S VISION 211 

4 ‘Wait for me, too!” came the voice of Peter 
Pan. 

“I ’m not a traitor!” cried Tommy, rushing up 
the stairs after them. 

“I ’m not a t-t-traitor, either!” echoed Pet, at 
her heels. 

“No; you ’re good old loyal patriots again, both 
of you,” answered Lee. “And, Lois, you ’re a 
little brick.” 

“Is n’t she!” said Raymonde, proud of her pu- 
pil. “Mimosa, you came out like a regular lion. 
I ’m going to call you Mimosa Coeur de Lion, after 
this.” 

“I was just as angry at them as I could be, for 
not standing by you both,” declared Mimosa the 
Lion-Hearted. 

“I know how to fix those girls down there,” 
announced Tommy. “I ’ve found out how you 
can turn the lights off the whole house. There ’s 
a place in the cellar where you do it. If they don’t 
come up, double-quick, I 'll go down cellar and 
douse the glim for them.” 

“I ’ll go with you, Tom! We ’ll see how they 
like rehearsing in the dark,” laughed Raymonde, 
enchanted with the vengeful plan. But destiny 
prevented Tommy from carrying out her ingen- 
ious plot. 


CHAPTER XIV 

GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY ! 


I N the five minutes ’ grace granted by Lee, Ray- 
monde did some hard thinking. A single box- 
ful of red-fire powder had been emptied into the 
Indian kettle. But, she asked herself, was that 
the only one that had been carried to the re- 
hearsal? Oh, why had she not thought of this 
before? Within five minutes a mischievous Poca- 
hontas, bound not to be balked of having her own 
way, could easily find time to burn a fresh supply 
of the forbidden powder. Gripped by sudden 
fear, Ray looked into the closet where Madelon 
had hidden the last two or three boxes of it. All 
were gone. 

“She has the rest of them down there ! She ’ll 
burn more of it if I don’t stop her this minute.” 
This conviction drove Raymonde down to the par- 
lor in hot haste. 

She found the door closed; but she heard ex- 
cited laughter, and a chorus of, “Oh! Oh!” as if 
the actors were beholding something of a rather 
startling nature. Above the confusion of sounds, 
Madelon ’s voice cried: 

“Now dance ! Dance ! Quick ! ’ ’ 

212 


213 


GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY! 

Raymonde had guessed correctly. The moment 
the door had closed upon Tommy and Pet, Terese, 
having turned on the light again, had exchanged a 
quick whisper with Madelon, whose protesting, 
“Oh, not now, there ’s no time,” she had con- 
quered with: “Yes, there is. It won’t take a 
second. Don ’t be beaten so easily, Mad. I ’ll get 
a pan from the kitchen. This kettle ’s too wet.” 

With these words Tessie Del had darted into 
the kitchen, filched more matches and the ash-pan 
from the stove and, returning, had placed the pan 
in what she considered stable equilibrium on the 
pile of wood beneath the Indians’ crane and ket- 
tle. Then from the folds of her tunic she had 
brought out a second box of the powder. Mean- 
while, Madelon had taken the flag from its place 
above Columbia’s throne, announcing that before 
Lee came prowling around again, they must have 
some fun, and suggesting a patriotic war-dance 
around her camp-fire. 

Terese having handed her the box of powder, 
Madelon had then poured its contents into the ash- 
pan, amid exclamations of: “Oh, you bad 
things ! ” “ Are n ’t you terrors ? ” “ We ’ll catch 
it if they find us out!” 

“Now get ready to dance,” Madelon had cried, 
as soon as Terese had turned off the light again. 
Then, catching up the flag, she had added : 

“I ’ll lead off with the Stars and Stripes. Old 
Glory ’s my partner.” 


214 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


The next instant she had flung a lighted match 
on the powder. A red light flared up. A ruddy 
smoke began to ascend, and, as Madelon’s order 
to dance set the girls off in a wild prance around 
the kettle, the door burst open. 

Through a weird red haze Raymonde beheld the 
rebels led by Pocahontas, who bore aloft the Star- 
Spangled Banner. But “ conscience does make 
cowards of us all.” Startled by a shriek from 
Kathleen, “Miss Owen ’s coming!” and fright- 
ened by the now choking fumes of the smoke, the 
dancers scattered in guilty terror. Madelon exe- 
cuted a wild jump, which brought her into collision 
with her moss-covered rock. Being made of has- 
socks instead of stone, the rock immediately col- 
lapsed, hitting the crane from which the cauldron 
hung and tumbling against the pile of sticks. As 
Raymonde rushed forward, there came a crash, a 
clang and clatter, shrieks from a dozen voices, and 
then the angry glare of leaping flames. Crane 
and kettle had fallen, causing the heap of wood to 
collapse in its turn. The ash-pan with the burn- 
ing powder had capsized and, fanned by the draft 
from one of the open windows, the fire had caught 
the crepe paper and dry Florida moss. The in- 
flammable stuff burst into a blaze. In the center 
of the room there developed a bonfire. That con- 
flagration had more than paper and moss to feed 
it. As the kettle and crane went over and the 


215 


GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY! 

flames leapt up, Madelon, with a scream of horror, 
had dropped the flag and fled. Glorious fuel, that 
heap of bunting! The Stars and Stripes, which 
four pairs of patriot hands had wrought with so 
much labor, was being devoured by the fiery foe. 

The guilty actors forgot the lessons learned at 
the school fire-drills. Panic seized them and 
drove them, terror-stricken, in a wild stampede 
for safety. Some screamed, “Fire!” and all 
headed for the door opening on the piazza. 

1 ‘ Come back ! Come back ! Help me ! Get the 
fire extinguisher, quick!” shouted Raymonde. 
But her voice was lost amid the screaming. They 
left her to fight the flames alone. 

It was “A Quaker to the rescue!” in grim 
earnest now. Raymonde caught up a heavy 
Navajo rug, spread for the use of Powhatan, but 
before she could fling it on the blazing fabric, 
tongues of flame swept from the bonfire on the 
floor to the soft drapery of the screen represent- 
ing the wigwam. Down came the rug on the ruins 
of the rock and Old Glory, smothering the fire at 
its heart. Then, seizing the burning screen, Ray- 
monde dragged it toward the piazza door. It 
burst into flame from end to end as she ran. The 
frightened girls, who had not yet recovered their 
senses, beheld the fire from which they had fled 
come rushing out among them. There was an- 
other scattering of the guilty, but Madelon, a 


216 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

coward no longer, sprang to meet her friend, and 
regardless of the danger, tried to grasp the blazing 
screen. 

4 4 Keep away! Don’t tonch it!” cried Ray- 
monde. The next instant she had dashed it down 
the steps to bnrn itself out on the grass. 

And while she was thus fighting the flames, what 
of the four loyal patriots whom she had left up- 
stairs ? 

“It ’s fire!” cried Lee, as the shrieks of the 
panic-stricken and the smell of smoke reached 
them. “Run for the teachers! Call for help! 
I ’ll ring the alarm-bell.” 

In a moment she was violently sounding the 
big bell at the end of the hall, and Tommy was 
struggling to detach the fire extinguisher from its 
place outside the housemother’s door. Petronella 
and Lois rushed down-stairs, in obedience to Lee’s 
command, to call for help. Pet, her terror in- 
creased by the vision of a cloud of smoke as she 
sped past the parlor door, dashed out into the 
night, screaming, “Fire!” at the top of her lungs. 
But through that smoke-cloud Lois caught a 
glimpse of Raymonde, throwing the rug over the 
flames. Timid by nature, the girl stood a mo- 
ment, speechless with horror. Then, when she 
saw Ray snatch up the blazing screen and disap- 
pear through the piazza door, Lois realized that 
her champion was fighting the fire, alone. Boldly 
she darted into the smoke-filled room. 


217 


GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY! 

“I ’m here! I ’ll help!” she cried, and, follow- 
ing Raymonde, was in time to see her hurl the 
burning screen down the steps. 

Back to the parlor Raymonde flew, and now she 
had two comrades at her side. Madelon and Lois, 
their fear forgotten, were ready to do their bit. 
But their help was not needed. They found the 
fire-extinguisher already in action. Lee and 
Tommy together were plying it vigorously. 

Danger was over by the time that Annie ap- 
peared with a pail of water and deluged the smok- 
ing heap of wreckage from which the charred flag- 
staff protruded. 

A minute later a number of teachers, led by Miss 
Owen and Pet, came flocking into the smoke-be- 
clouded room. The sound of the alarm-bell had 
brought to a sudden end the chat that the younger 
members of the faculty were holding after the 
prolonged teachers’ meeting. It had hurried 
them from their cottage only to encounter Petro- 
nella on the campus, still wildly shrieking, 
“Fire!” 

Their outburst of questioning brought only un- 
enlightening answers from Lee and Tommy. 
Raymonde and Madelon both stood staring at the 
ruins left by the fire, looking as if they were in the 
grip of a nightmare. They, like Lois, who was 
trembling from head to foot, seemed bereft of all 
power of speech. Suddenly a new voice was 
heard, and it caused a lull in the room. 


218 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Is the fire out! Is it all over?” 

“Yes, it ’s all out now, Miss Cleveland. No 
serious damage done. It was all over by the time 
I reached the cottage,” answered Miss Owen. 

In the doorway had appeared, tall and com- 
manding, the supreme authority of Netley Hall. 
It was generally agreed in the school that on oc- 
casions demanding severity Miss Cleveland’s look 
was more terrible and more to he dreaded than a 
scolding delivered by any other being. This look 
was on her face now as she viewed the aftermath 
of the conflagration. When she had convinced 
herself that every spark had been quenched, she 
began a stern questioning. 

“What was the trouble? What started the 
fire?” 

“We can’t find out,” replied Miss Owen. 
“Those girls and Annie put it out alone. But 
who started it, I don’t know.” 

“Where are the other girls?” asked Miss Cleve- 
land. 

The fugitives were rounded up by Miss Owen, 
and brought back, subdued and shamefaced. 
Terese was very pale. Her starry Liberty cap 
was gone, and her golden hair all wild and blowzy 
around her white face. Every disobedient daugh- 
ter of Netley was confronting a dreadful vision of 
expulsion from the school. It was an awful mo- 
ment when Miss Cleveland summoned the band of 
culprits to the bar of justice. 


219 


GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY! 

“Now, girls,’ ’ she said in that stern voice of 
command, “tell me about this accident. How did 
a fire break out in this room? Tell me exactly 
how it happened. ’ 9 

Some of the girls hung their heads; others 
stared hopelessly at the spot where the fire had 
blazed. The floor was charred, the rug scorched 
and soaked. Ashes drowned in a puddle and that 
blackened flagstaff were all that was left of Old 
Glory. Lee’s imploring eyes besought the stern 
inquisitor to spare her from telling. Poor Ray- 
monde in her distress looked guiltiest of the 
guilty. Miss Cleveland noticed this and fixed 
upon them both a piercing gaze. “I ’ve always 
trusted you,” it seemed to say, “but you have 
proved unfaithful.” Aloud she said: 

“Lee, Raymonde, answer my questions immedi- 
ately. ’ ’ 

Raymonde only pressed her lips firmly together. 
Lee was beginning to falter lamely that “the rock 
caught fire.” But, suddenly awakening from her 
daze of horror, Madelon burst out, to the dismay 
of her more respectful classmates : 

“You sha’n’t blame Ray and Lee. It wasn’t 
their fault.” 

“Hush, hush,” said Miss Cleveland, gravely. 

“But it wasn't their fault!” cried the excited 
girl. “They had gone up-stairs, and Ray only 
came down again to stop us. Didn’t you, Ray?” 

“If they ’d only listened to Lee and Ray, it 


220 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

would n’t have happened at all,” spoke up Tommy. 

“The rock and the flag were all in a blaze!” 
cried Lois. “And I saw Ray throw that rug over 
them and smother the fire. And she carried the 
screen out, all burning.” 

“Lee and Tommy did just as much as I did,” 
began Raymonde. “They brought the extin- 
guisher and Lois ran after me to help — ” 

“But Ray had the fire most put out before we 
came,” interrupted Lee. 

Miss Cleveland threw the heroines of the fire 
a quick look of approval. 

“I am glad,” said she, “that some girls showed 
presence of mind.” She turned to Madelon and 
the other rebels. “Girls, did you actually attempt 
to light a fire under this kettle!” Her tone said, 
‘ 4 Is this class afflicted with hopeless idiocy ? 9 9 

The silence throughout the room gave assent to 
the question, and she went on: 

“Every one here knows the rule about fire. If 
these three brave girls had not acted so promptly, 
this whole cottage might now be burning to the 
ground. I wish to know who is responsible for 
lighting a fire in this room?” 

Terese, with nervous fingers, twisted the long 
ends of her girdle tightly round and round her 
wrist. Then she fixed a stony gaze on the burner 
of the red fire. For she saw Madelon cross the 
room and, pale and quivering, stand before Miss 
Cleveland. 


221 


GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY! 

“I ’m to blame. It was all my fault !” Made- 
ion’s voice was strained and unnatural, and she 
spoke between little catches of her breath. “I 
sent for the Fourth of July powder to burn in the 
Indian scene — I thought it would look so beauti- 
ful — I didn’t know it was any harm till Lee said 
so to-day. But — I did burn some of it. Ray tried 
her best to stop me. When I lighted the fire the 
first time, she put it out. And Lee and Ray both 
tried to make us go to bed at ten. And Lois and 
Tommy and Pet did go. And then — I lighted 
more of it after they ’d gone. And I told the girls 
it would be fun to dance around the fire. And I 
took the flag, and we started dancing. But sud- 
denly the door opened and somebody screamed 
and scared us. And I know I gave a great jump 
— and the kettle went over — and the rock caught 
fire — and — I think I dropped the flag, because 
there it is.” She pointed to the charry remains. 
“And then — Oh, I don’t know what happened 
next! Only the room was all smoke, and we ran 
out-of-doors. And then Ray came running out, 
dragging the screen. It was all blazing. She 
might have been burned up, herself!” 

“Raymonde,” said Miss Cleveland, “you have 
been very heroic. Why, what ’s the matter, child? 
Have you burned your hands ? ’ ’ 

Raymonde ’s face had grown very white and it 
was drawn with suffering now. She was holding 
her right hand in her left. 


222 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Oh, she ’s burned herself dreadfully! And it 
hurts her so ! But she would n’t let me tell. Oh, 
her poor hand!” cried Lois, who was hovering 
about her with loving pity. 

Madelon started. Her bitter distress reached 
its climax, and Lee durned pale, as both realized 
that their friend had not come unscathed from her 
fight with the fire. Miss Cleveland went to Ray- 
monde ’s side. 

“Let me see your hand. Why, my poor child, 
how you must be suffering!” she said, as she saw 
what a price Raymonde had paid for he^ act of 
heroism. 

“It isn’t very bad,” Ray answered. But now 
that she had time to think of herself at all, it was 
taking all her fortitude to bear the pain. 

“Miss Owen, take her over to the infirmary, 
immediately,” said Miss Cleveland. “The burn 
must be dressed at once.” 

“I don’t care about my hand!” declared Ray- 
monde. “I only care about Madelon.” 

She would have pleaded for her friend, but 
Miss Owen, putting her arm around her, said : 

‘ ‘ Come, dear — you must. ’ * And Raymonde was 
led away, throwing back an appealing glance at 
the principal — a look that implored mercy for 
poor Madelon. 

A fuller confession was drawn from the burner 
of the forbidden chemical as soon as she was able 


223 


GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY! 

to give a more coherent account of the trouble. 
Of her own part in the affair, Madelon left noth- 
ing untold, but of Terese Delano she said never a 
word. When the story was ended, out spoke 
Tommy again. 

“Well, I ’m bad enough myself. I voted for 
not going to bed. And I would n’t have gone, 
either — only Ray pitched into us so, and Lee called 
us traitors — and I couldn’t stand that.” 

“I ’m just as bad,” confessed Peter Pan. 

“I ’m worse! I did stay!” moaned Kathleen, 
on the verge of tears. “And I was the one who 
screamed when Ray came. I thought it was Miss 
Owen. I made Madelon jump. The fire was part 
my fault.” Forlornly she gazed down at the re- 
sults of the bonfire. “Oh, dear!” she wailed 
heartbrokenly. “Our poor flag!” 

At Kathleen’s cry the eyes of the Old Glory 
Girls became fixed upon that tragic, pitiful ob- 
ject, the blackened staff from which their starry 
banner had once so proudly hung. To Madelon 
it was as if the glances of her classmates were all 
leveled accusingly at herself. 

Miss Cleveland looked searchingly at the dif- 
ferent faces. 

“Is there any other girl who has something to 
confess? If any one helped Madelon light the 
fire, or feels that she urged her on, I hope she will 
be truthful enough to own it.” 


224 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


There was silence through the room. Madelon 
shot one swift glance at Terese, and her lips 
framed the words, “You coward !” 

There were red marks around Terese’s wrist 
now, so tightly had she fettered it with her girdle ; 
but, except for that nervous action of her fingers, 
she was as motionless as a statue. Straight be- 
fore her stared the white-faced girl, stonily and 
sullenly. She who had so daringly played Will- 
o’-the-Wisp and so recklessly defied the law, found 
her nerve utterly failing her at thought of the 
fatal consequences that confession of her own mis- 
deeds would surely bring. She believed that the 
hours devoted to “Emerald Estrella” had brought 
her marks alarmingly low. .Confession would, 
she imagined, reduce them to the zero point and 
perhaps bring to light Jack-o ’-Lantern’s activities 
as head of the Will-o’-the-Wisps. To her ex- 
cited fancy it seemed as if it would end in a dis- 
grace that she could not endure, and that she 
would undoubtedly be sent home to meet the dis- 
pleasure of her parents. So lips and tongue re- 
fused to obey the promptings of conscience that 
urged: “Be brave! Tell the truth now.” 

Miss Cleveland quickly adjourned her court of 
justice. “With the exception of the five girls who 
obeyed orders,” she said, “every member of this 
class has been guilty of great disobedience in stay- 
ing up beyond the limit of time allowed and in 
breaking the rule about matches and fire. But 


225 


GOOD-BY, OLD GLORY! 

for Raymonde’s courage and presence of mind, 
not only might this whole house have burned down, 
but there might even have been loss of life, and 
you would have been responsible. I am greatly 
shocked at Madelon ’s conduct, but I am glad that 
she has had the honesty to confess frankly. To- 
morrow morning you will all assemble in my study 
after breakfast. Now go immediately to bed.” 

With despairing hearts the culprits realized 
that the worst was about to befall them. It would 
have been alarming enough to be called before the 
school council, but to be summoned to the princi- 
pal’s study meant that some dire sentence was 
impending. 

Meanwhile, in the school infirmary, the trained 
nurse was dressing Raymonde’s injured hand. 
When the pain was relieved, the nurse said: 

“I ’m going to keep you right here with me to- 
night.” Forthwith she tucked her charge up in 
one of the cosy cots. 

Miss Cleveland, coming in a little later, found 
the patient suffering less from the burn than from 
troubled thoughts. 

“You won’t send Madelon away for this — will 
you, Miss Cleveland? You wouldn’t do that?” 
Ray asked anxiously. “She was all excited to- 
night and she was just led on. She loses her head 
so when she ’s having fun.” 

“I think I understand Madelon,” was the quiet 


answer. 


226 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


4 ‘And you won’t send her away?” Raymonde 
repeated. 

“No, my dear. Madelon has no home but Net- 
ley until her aunt returns. But we must not talk 
about the future to-night. You must go to sleep 
at once and not lie awake worrying over Madelon, 
for you are a very tired little heroine. Yes, dear, 
you have proved yourself a real heroine to-night. 
And you have shown that you have moral courage 
too, and so has Lee. I know two girls whom I 
can always trust.” 


CHAPTER XV 


DESPERATION 

T HE fighters of the fire found themselves next 
day the heroines of the school, but Raymonde 
carried off the highest honors. Before she left 
her hospital cot, the whole senior class gave her a 
round of cheers under the infirmary window. 
With her arm in a sling, she returned to Old Glory 
Cottage in time to see a melancholy procession 
coming back from the principal's study, where 
sentence had been pronounced upon the guilty. 

Anxiously waiting at her door, Raymonde saw 
the culprits turn into their respective rooms like 
prisoners retiring to dungeon cells. Most of 
them appeared shame-faced and held their heads 
low, but Madelon carried hers proudly high. 
Close behind her came Terese, a scornful smile 
curling her lip. 

“Well, I ’m not expelled, but I wish I had 
been!” cried Madelon, as Ray followed her into 
their room. “I wish I was out of this old school 
forever and need never see it or hear of it again.” 

“ Madelon, dear, I ’m so sorry! I know it ’s 
terribly hard for you,” sympathized Raymonde, 
227 


228 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

putting her free arm lovingly around her friend. 
“What did Miss Cleveland say?” 

“Oh, she was awful. The other girls all get 
two days in their rooms and a week of being kept 
in bounds, and we ’re all marked down. But Miss 
Cleveland says I 11 have to stay in my room four 
days, and only be let out for stupid walks with 
Mrs. Mills. Raymonde, I ’ve a good mind to do 
something dreadful, so Miss Cleveland will have 
to expel me.” 

“No, you won’t,” said Ray, cheerily. “I 11 be 
with you every minute I can, and we 11 have some 
real nice, cosy times together right here in this 
room. But, Madelon, tell me — didn’t Tess get 
the powder and the matches both times ? Was n ’t 
the whole thing her doing?” 

“I lighted the fire myself,” was Madelon ’s only 
reply. 

“But she put you up to it. She tempted you 
on,” Raymonde insisted. “You ’d never have 
done it but for her . I found her talking to you 
when we were dressing for the rehearsal. She 
was egging you on to do it, then, wasn’t she? 
And to think of her not owning up last night! 
And you were so brave, telling all your part of it 
and never saying a word about Tess! Did she 
confess this morning?” 

An indignant, “No!” escaped from Madelon. 

At this Raymonde ’s wrath boiled over. 

“ Terese is the meanest, cowardliest girl I ever 


DESPERATION 


229 


heard of!” she hurst out. “It would serve her 
right to he shut up in her room for a month, with- 
out anybody to speak to. It would just do her 
good.” 

“How ’s your hand?” Madelon asked suddenly 
and sharply, glancing down at her friend’s arm 
resting in its sling. 

4 ‘ Oh, it ’s ever so much better now ! It ’ll be 
all well soon.” 

“I wish it was my hand — both my hands!” 
cried Madelon. “I wish I ’d caught fire and 
burned up. Then you ’d be well rid of me.’” 

“Well, 1 don’t wish you ’d burned up,” said 
Raymonde. “What would become of poor little 
me — all alone without my family — if I lost you 
too?” 

“Don’t talk nonsense, Ray! You hate me by 
this time — you know you do.” 

“No, I don’t know any such thing,” was Ray- 
monde ’s answer. “But I know I want somebody 
to kiss me good-morning. ” 

This wish was not to be granted. Madelon 
dropped down on her bed, and, turning her head 
away, stared defiantly at the wall. Suddenly 
she felt a kiss on her forehead before she could 
hide her face in the pillow. 

“Go away! I won’t kiss you! I nearly killed 
you!” cried poor Madelon, the tears for the first 
time rushing to her eyes. “I didn’t even help 
you fight the fire! I just ran away and let you 


230 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

get burned ! Ray, you need n’t think I care about 
anything else. I don’t care how many rules I 
broke. I only care for you and your poor hand 
— and — about burning the flag and being a cow- 
ard.” 

“You weren't a coward!” declared Raymonde. 
“You nearly got burned yourself, trying to help 
me.” 

“Yes, I was, too!” moaned Madelon. “We all 
screamed and ran out-of-doors the minute the 
fire started. I don’t know why 1 ran! I just 
could n’t help it. I could n’t have stopped to save 
my life. Ever since I can remember, fire alarms 
have made me nearly wild — just like great noises 
and thunder. And, oh dear ! I ’ve been planning 
to show presence of mind in danger, and now I 
did n’t have any presence of mind at all last night ! 
I only thought that I had set the house on fire, 
so I ran. Oh, I hate a coward ! ’ ’ 

“You poor dear!” said Raymonde, soothingly. 
“It was all because you can’t get over that awful 
earthquake you were in. It wasn’t your fault 
a bit that you ran away.” And, despite Made- 
Ion’s fierce: “I tell you it was my fault! I was 
a coward!” and her renewed attempt to smother 
her face in the pillow, Ray bent over her and 
kissed the bit of forehead unhidden. It was a 
parting kiss, for the school bell was already ring- 
ing, calling Raymonde away. 

Madelon, the girl who gloried in courage and 


DESPERATION 


231 


longed to prove her patriotism by some deed of 
valor, but had fled in the moment of danger, the 
girl who loved the flag, but had destroyed it, was 
left alone to live over again in bitter thought that 
dreadful yesterday. 

At recess Raymonde held an indignation meet- 
ing with Lee, Tommy, and Petronella, and con- 
fided to them her conviction of Terese’s guilt. 

“Madelon won’t give her away, but I ’m posi- 
tive Tess pushed her into it,” she assured them. 

“ Can’t we scare Terese into confessing?” asked 
Lee. 

”1 ’m going to tell her the whole class will 
despise her till she does!” declared Tommy. 

“Tell her we ’ll oysterize her!” said Peter Pan. 

Raymonde burst out laughing. 

“Oysterize! Oh, that ’s lovely! Shall we stew 
her or eat her on the half-shell?” 

“Well, if oysterize isn’t the word, it ’s some- 
thing that sounds like oysters, anyhow,” said Pet. 
“And it means that nobody ’ll have anything to 
do with her.” 

“Peter, you infant!” exclaimed Lee. “You 
mean ostracize .” 

Two days of penance passed, and the morning 
hours, which kept Raymonde away at her classes, 
seemed endless to Madelon, who sat studying or 
rather brooding with books open before her, 
alone in her room. On Friday afternoon, while 
— school over — Ray was chirping like twenty 


232 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


crickets in a vain effort to cheer her disconsolate 
princess, a big touring-car arrived at Netley Hall. 
It brought Mrs. Van Arsdale and her daughter, 
Valerie, who had chosen this painfully embarrass- 
ing time to make their appearance and beg the 
principal to allow Madelon to come with them in 
their car and spend a happy week-end at their 
summer home in South Glenwood. Miss Cleve- 
land explained why Madelon could not accept the 
invitation and told them of the penitential days 
that she was spending in her room. But Valerie 
was permitted to pay her friend a call in Old 
Glory Cottage. 

“Oh, Val, why do you always come at the 
wrong time!” lamented poor Madelon, recalling 
the Van Arsdales’ inopportune arrival at the 
Castle the day after she had masqueraded as an 
Italian singing girl. 

Valerie, just fifteen, was a highly experienced ’ 
young woman of the world. Her motor hat and 
coat were of the latest mode, and she carried a 
flat-nosed, short-legged Pekinese spaniel under 
her arm. She hugged Madelon, gave Ray the 
spaniel to cuddle, poured forth a flood of sym- 
pathy, and loudly protested against Miss Cleve- 
land’s cruel severity in keeping the captive in 
durance till Sunday night, instead of allowing her 
to ride away with the Van Arsdales. 

“See here, Mad, you come to us the first Satur- 
day Miss Cleveland will let you,” said Valerie, as 


DESPERATION 


233 


she rose to depart. “You wouldn’t be afraid to 
come alone, would you? Mother mightn’t want 
the bother of motoring all the way over here a 
second time. ’ ’ 

“But we ’re not allowed to travel alone,” be- 
gan Raymonde. 

“Are n’t you? How silly!” exclaimed Valerie. 
“Why, it ’s just as easy! Madelon can take the 
trolley over to Beaufort Junction and get the 
Glenwood train there, and we can meet her at the 
other end. Glenwood Station ’s only ten miles 
from South Glenwood where we live. Now, Mad, 
darling, you just tease Miss Cleveland to let you 
come. By-by! Give her a kiss, Peekie.” Hav- 
ing held up the spaniel for a farewell salute, 
Valerie ran downstairs to join her mother in the 
car. 

As Madelon leaned out of the window^ to wave 
to her chum, Mrs. Van Arsdale called up to her: 

“Good-by, dear! Awfully sorry you can’t 
come with us now! You must spend a week-end 
with us^just as soon as Miss Cleveland will let 
you. Remember, we love you just the same.” 

“Isn’t Valerie in luck!” sighed Madelon. 
“Just think of her being allowed to leave school 
before it closes and begin her vacation now! 
Her mother lets her do everything she wants.” 

Forlornly Valerie’s imprisoned friend rested 
her head on the window-sill. Even the hope of 
an early visit to the Van Arsdales could not keep 


234 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


a black cloud of depression from falling upon her 
once more. Neither could Raymonde’s attempts 
at comforting save her from the torture that deep 
humiliation brings to a- proud, sensitive nature. 
The disgrace of having caused the fire and de- 
stroyed her country’s flag grew bigger and bigger 
in the poor girl’s eyes, the more she brooded. 
Ray had told her cheerily that they could make 
another flag; yet Madelon imagined that in their 
hearts her classmates would never forgive her for 
burning up Old Glory. 

“I wish Valerie hadn’t come at all!” she sud- 
denly lifted her head to exclaim. “It makes me 
feel worse than ever. Oh, I can’t stand this! 
I ’m going to run away.” 

“All right. I ’ll run after you, then,” chirped 
Raymonde, who had learned not to take her 
princess’s threats too seriously. 

“I ’ll do it!” Madelon declared. “I ’ll go to 
Valerie. Her mother says they love me just the 
same. If they won’t keep me, I ’ll go out to the 
ranch. I ’d rather live there again, than be shut 
up here.” 

“But you won’t be shut up here after Sunday,” 
said Ray. “You ’ll be back again Monday morn- 
ing with us all.” 

“That ’s the worst of it!” cried Madelon. “I 
hate to go back, to face everybody. I can’t stand 
meeting all the girls again after what I ’ve done.” 

“Maddie, dear, don’t be such a goosie,” 


DESPERATION 


235 


pleaded Raymonde, her arm around Madelon’s 
neck. “If you only knew how they want you 
back again — Dixie and Pet and Tommy — ” 

“No, they don’t! You only try to think they 
do,” the unhappy girl declared, and refused to be 
comforted. 

Saturday saw all the captives but Madelon re- 
leased at breakfast-time. Terese came out of her 
room, wearing a coldly indifferent expression, a 
look of “I don’t care.” Breakfast over, Lee, 
Raymonde, Pet, and Tommy surrounded Terese 
and spoke their minds to her, causing her con- 
temptuous “don’t care” manner to change to 
angry defiance. 

“Why don’t you go to Miss Cleveland and tell 
all the tales and say all the mean things you like 
about me?” she demanded, and this was the only 
satisfaction they could gain. 

That Saturday was a red-letter day. A field- 
hockey match was to be held between the girls of 
Netley Hall and St. Agatha’s School, twenty miles 
away. Early in the morning the Netley team de- 
parted by train, for the contest was to take place 
at St. Agatha’s. An army of schoolmates accom- 
panied the players, ready to cheer them on to vic- 
tory, and Miss Cleveland herself headed the teach- 
ers who chaperoned the merry band. 

Lee and Petronella, Tommy and Lois, were the 
only representatives of the Old Glory Girls to 
join the expedition. Of the rest of the class all 


236 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


but Raymonde were being kept within bounds, 
and, as to Ray herself, nothing could induce her 
to desert her captive princess. But the deeper 
Madelon’s remorse, the thornier her temper; and, 
as a reward for this fidelity, she treated her prince 
to fits of silent gloom and outbursts of irritability 
until poor Ray exclaimed: “Dear me, I wish 
you ’d stop that everlasting grouching! I can’t 
stand it any longer. ’ ’ 

Toward noon Ruth Allen, a day-scholar, arrived 
with her mother, both of them on horseback, with 
a groom in attendance. They wished to know 
whether the patient with the burned hand could 
take a short ride with them if the groom led Vic- 
tory. Mrs. Mills decided that the fresh air and 
exercise would do the convalescent good, but Ray- 
monde hesitated. 

“Perhaps I ’ d better stay with Maddie,” she be- 
gan. 

“Oh, go along, do! I don’t want you! I ’d 
rather be alone,” snapped Madelon. 

“All right, I will then !’ ’ Ray snapped back ; but 
when she was ready for her ride she left the room 
with a good-humored “By-by, old lady! I ’ll be 
back soon and plague you some more.” 

Left to herself, the captive leaned her elbows on 
the window-sill and scowled at the blue sky and 
the flocks of birds that sailed through it, mocking 
her with their freedom. And then — 


DESPERATION 


237 


Gentle Victory did not need to be led, even 
though his mistress had but one hand with which 
to manage him; but when the ride was over, 
shortly before luncheon-time, and the Allens had 
parted from her at the gate, the groom escorted 
Raymonde up the driveway of the school and to- 
ward the stable. Directly in their horses’ path, 
Louis Carrette was busy loading a toy cart with 
stones and earth. As they reined in to avoid 
running him down, the youngster straightened 
himself, drew from his pocket a treasure, and, 
crying gleefully, 4 ‘ See ! See ! ’ ’ held up to view a 
twenty-five-cent piece. 

c 1 Why, Louis ! How rich you are ! ’ ’ said Ray. 
‘ ‘ Who gave you that ? ’ ’ 

“Mees Madelon,” replied the little Belgian. 
“She give it to me for ‘toujour 9 and for ‘adieu.’ ” 

For good morning and for good-by ! What was 
the meaning of this ? 

“Louis! What do you mean?” cried Ray- 
monde. “Did she throw it from the window or 
did she come down here?” 

“Down here,” was the answer. This was all 
the information that Louis troubled himself to 
give, for his interest became centered in the two 
horses. 

Raymonde turned to the groom. 

“I have to find out what this little boy means,” 
she said. “But he won’t listen to me while 


238 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


you ’re here. Thank you for coming with me, but 
I don’t need any more help. I ’ll find the coach- 
man up at the stable.” 

The groom, dismissed, touched his hat and rode 
off. 

“ Listen to me, Louis. Now pay attention,” 
said Raymonde. “Why did Miss Madelon give 
you that money for ‘adieu’! Did she go away!” 

Louis nodded. Raymonde felt her heart 
pounding. “Was she alone ! ’ ’ 

Another nod. 

“Which way did she go!” 

The child pointed down the road in the direction 
of the trolley-station. 

“Mees Madelon say ‘not tell,’ ” he added, re- 
membering this injunction rather late, and putting 
his finger on his lips with a sly and roguish air. 

“But you must tell me,” Raymonde insisted. 
“Tell me everything Miss Madelon said.” But 
all she could learn was that Madelon had given 
him the money while he was playing with his 
cart. 

Her brain was in a whirl, but two things stood 
out clearly in her mind. Madelon had actually 
carried out her threat to run away, and she had 
fled to Valerie Van Arsdale’s. Of this Raymonde 
was sure. She recollected Valerie’s instructions 
yesterday: “Madelon can take the trolley to 
Beaufort Junction and get the Glenwood train 
there,” 


DESPERATION 


239 


Raymonde turned her horse and rode out of the 
gate once more. Then, giving Victory a smart 
slap with the bridle, she dashed away toward the 
car-line at full gallop. The headlong pace 
brought her quickly to the trolley-stop. No car 
was in sight and no Madelon. 

“She ’s gone!” Raymonde told herself in de- 
spair. 

Now what was to be done? Ride back to school 
and report? In that case, a teacher would start 
immediately in pursuit. Ray judged that the one 
to give chase would be sharp-tongued, nervous 
Miss Wilcox, the Latin teacher, to whom Madelon 
had taken a violent dislike. “Miss Wilcox would 
be sure to drive Maddie into a fury, scolding 
her!” she thought. 

On the other hand, if Raymonde herself could 
only find Madelon at Beaufort Junction before 
the fugitive caught the train for Glenwood, the 
excited girl might be brought to her senses and 
induced to return to Netley Hall. 

“The quicker I can get her back, the better it ’ll 
be for her. If she really goes on to Glenwood, 
she ’ll get herself into worse trouble! She 
mustn’t be expelled — no, she mustn’t! I will 
save her! I will !” 

Raymonde ’s mind was made up. For the first 
time it dawned upon her that she herself was 
breaking the law by having dashed out of bounds 
without asking leave, but she resolved not to re- 


240 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


enter the gates of Netley till she had made one 
desperate effort to save Madelon from the conse- 
quences of her wild act. 

“Now I ’m out of bounds I might as well stay 
out and do some good,” she decided. “I ’ll go 
to Beaufort after Madelon myself. She ’ll come 
back for me, if she will for anybody. I ’ll make 
her come. I won’t leave her till she does.” 

Beaufort Junction was celebrated in the Heath- 
cote family as “Kenneth Sterling’s station.” 
After about an hour’s ride the Old Glory Girl 
saw ahead of her the Stars and Stripes waving in 
the breeze, as if to cheer her onward. The tall 
flagpole, from which streamed the red, white, and 
blue, rose in the middle of a campus bordered by 
low, stone buildings suggesting soldiers’ bar- 
racks. Two guns were mounted near the flag- 
pole, and in a large field to the northward were 
rows of tents, for this was Beaufort Military 
School, and, the warm spring weather having 
come, the cadets had gone into camp. 

Raymonde rode forward, but presently she had 
to halt by the wayside. A cavalry troop was ap- 
proaching. Down the road they clattered, nearly 
half a hundred young troopers, in a cloud of dust, 
and a brave show they made as they came up on 
their foam-flecked horses. The famous Beaufort 
cavalry was returning after a morning of hard 
riding. The youthful captain did not turn his 
soldierly neck so much as a hair’s breadth in the 


DESPERATION 


241 


direction of the school-girl on the black steed. 
“Eyes in the boat” was evidently his rigid rule 
when on the march. But First Lieutenant Ken- 
neth Sterling did throw Raymonde a glance 
as he rode past, and it was comical to see his look 
of astonished recognition. Surprise gave instant 
place to a smile of greeting, and up went his hand 
to his hat in a military salute. Raymonde nodded 
and smiled in return. Then, when the troop had 
gone clattering by, she pursued her quest. 

Reaching Beaufort Junction, she called through 
the window of the railway station to the official in 
charge : 

“Has the train to Glenwood gone yet?” 

“No train to Glenwood between eleven a. m. 
and four-fifty p. m.,” responded the ticket-agent. 

A wave of relief swept over Raymonde. She 
called out once more to the official. 

“I can’t leave my horse, but tell me, please, is 
there a girl inside there, in the station?” 

“Not now,” the man replied. 

“But did a girl come here?” asked Raymonde, 
eagerly. “A girl about fifteen, with dark hair 
and dark eyes ? And did she buy a ticket to Glen- 
wood?” 

The man chuckled. 

“Well, now,” said he, “I ain’t much on telling 
the color of eyes. But there was a girl bought a 
ticket to Glenwood a while ago. Pretty girl, she 
was!” 


242 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“Where has she gone!” 

“Over to Hickey’s.” 

“Where ’s that!” 

“Hickey’s Ice-cream Parlor! Right across the 
street. She asked me where she could get some 
cream. She left her grip here.” 

“Oh, let me see it!” begged Raymonde. “If 
it ’s my friend’s, then it has her initials on it.” 

The good-natured ticket-agent placed a trim 
suitcase on the windowsill. It was stamped with 
the initials, “M. D’A.” 

“That ’s hers!” cried Raymonde, adding, “Is 
it a long trip to Glenwood!” 

‘ ‘ About two hours and a half. Train gets there 
at seven-twenty-nine. It ’s a slow train — accom- 
modation. ’ ’ 

A minute or two later the buxom Miss Hickey, 
serving a customer with ice-cream, was startled 
to see the nose of a black horse intrude itself 
through her open window as if the inquiring 
animal wished to order a glass of her famous 
strawberry sundae. Raymonde had ridden Victory 
across the sidewalk. Now, having gained Miss 
Hickey’s attention, she explained her errand, and 
learned that a girl answering Madelon’s descrip- 
tion had stopped there for ice-cream. 

“Where is she now!” asked Ray, and Miss 
Hickey replied : 

“Up to the Orphans’ picnic.” 

“The Orphans’ picnic!” echoed Raymonde. 


DESPERATION 


243 


‘ ‘ Sure. There ’s an Orphans’ Home up here. 
They send np kids from the city. And they ’re 
having a picnic to-day up to Pleasant Grove. She 
asked me was there anything nice to see around 
here, for she ’d a long time to wait for her train. 
I told her the picnic grounds was real pretty and 
she ’d better go up there. They ’ve swings there, 
and a merry-go-round. She ’d enjoy it.” 

Raymonde inquired the way to Pleasant Grove, 
and was given directions so many and so minute 
that her head swam. 

“Did my friend try to walk all that way?” she 
asked. 

“Dear, no! I told her it was too far. She 
took a hack. Won’t you come in and have some 
cream? Ours is grand. She had two plates.” 

Raymonde, hungry and thirsty, hut penniless, 
declined with thanks, and started on her search 
for Pleasant Grove. After much fruitless 
wandering, she found herself approaching, not 
the picnic grounds, but Beaufort School again. 
The camp was now swarming with cadets in uni- 
form, and dismounted troopers were scattering 
hither and yon on pleasure bent. Several came 
filing into the road, among them, Lieutenant Ster- 
ling. Kenneth saluted Raymonde once more, his 
brothers-in-arms following suit. Then, while his 
companions walked on, he stepped out into the 
middle of the road and, with a welcoming smile, 
merrily challenged the little horsewoman. 


244 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


4 ‘Halt! Dismount! Who goes there ?” 

“A friend,’ ’ she answered. 

“Advance, friend, to be recognized.” 

“Oh, Kenneth, I ’m so glad to see somebody I 
know! But I can’t advance, because you ’re 
blocking the way, and I can’t dismount, for I ’m 
in a tearing hurry. ’ ’ 

“Then surrender. I was your prisoner, now 
you ’re mine. Why, you ’re wounded yourself 
this time, aren’t you? What ’s the matter with 
your hand?” 

“Only a burn,” she answered, lightly. 

“How did you do it?” 

“Oh, we ’d been having a rehearsal at school, 
and some things caught fire.” 

“And you were trying to put the fire out?” 
guessed Kenneth. “Was that it?” 

“Yes.” 

‘ ‘ Good for you ! How did you put it out ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, I can’t stop to tell you. I ’m in such a 
fearful hurry!” 

“But what are you doing way over here all 
alone, riding with only one hand?” asked Ken- 
neth. “I thought you were at boarding- 
school?” 

“I am. But I have to get to the picnic grounds 
as quick as I can,” was the puzzling reply. “Is 
Pleasant Grove far from here?” 

Kenneth looked at her in no little surprise. 

“What ’s up? Is Netley having a picnic?” 


DESPERATION 


245 


4 ‘No, but — oh, Kenneth, the most dreadful 
thing has happened! Madelon ’s run away from 
school, and I ’m trying to find her.” 

Kenneth started as if he had been shot. 

“The girl at the ice-cream place says Made- 
Ion ’s gone to the Orphans’ picnic,” Ray hur- 
riedly explained. “She — I — Ken, I ’ll have to 
tell you the whole thing or you won’t understand.” 
Excusing Madelon as far as truth would allow, 
and assuring Kenneth that “she never, never 
meant any harm,” Raymonde told him all that 
had happened and of the fugitive’s threat to go 
to the Van Arsdales’ and, if they could not keep 
her, flee to the ranch. 

“And they ’ll never forgive her for running 
away,” she ended. “None of the girls are al- 
lowed to go anywhere alone. And it ’ll be night 
before she gets there. The train doesn’t reach 
Glenwood till half past seven, and the Van Ars- 
dales live at South Glenwood — that ’s ten miles 
from the station, Valerie said.” 

“That won’t do,” Kenneth agreed. 

“Of course it won’t! I ’m going to stop her, 
but I ’ve lost my way. The ice-cream girl told 
me how to get to the picnic grounds; but she di- 
rected me so hard, I ’m all mixed up.” 

“I ’ll take you there myself,” said Kenneth. 

‘ ‘ Oh, thank you ! But were n ’t you going some- 
where with your friends? I don’t want to spoil 
your fun.” 


246 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“That ’ll keep,” he assured her. “Look here! 
You ’re out alone. Won’t they pitch into you, 
too, when you get back to school!” 

“I can’t help it if they do,” declared Ray- 
monde, recklessly. “I had to go after Madelon.” 
She explained to him her reasons for having 
dashed off alone. 

‘ ‘ How are you going to bring her home ? ’ ’ asked 
Kenneth. “Both of you ride one nag?” 

‘ ‘ Do you know I never thought of that till I was 
half-way here?” confessed Miss Leap-before-you- 
look. “I ’ll have to leave Vic in some stable and 
let Ned get him later on, and I ’ll go back with 
Maddie by the trolley. I know she won’t go back 
alone. ’ ’ 

“I ’ll take care of Vic and ride him over to your 
school to-morrow,” promised Kenneth. “Then 
you can take Madelon back, handcuffed.” 

Raymonde felt that her difficulties were smooth- 
ing themselves out wonderfully. 

“Oh, Kenneth, I ’m so glad I found you!” she 
exclaimed. “I was wishing and wishing I had 
Ned to come with me and tell me what to do. I 
have n’t anybody to go to now when I ’m puzzled, 
with Mother and Daddy away and Ned at Hunt- 
well.” 

“Your family have all deserted you, haven’t 
they?” said Kenneth, sympathetically. 

“Yes, and now Maddie ’s run away, too.” 

“We ’ll fix up the Maddie part of it,” he re- 


DESPERATION 247 

turned, and they went forward, her guide with 
his hand on Victory ’s bridle. 

‘ ‘ Vic ’s thirsty. Could he have a drink f ’ ’ asked 
Raymonde. 

“He could . And how about you? You ’ve 
come all this way without any dinner, have n ’t 
you ? Are n ’t you hungry ? ’ 9 

“A little, but that ’s no matter.” 

“I think it is matter,” said Kenneth. “We ’ll 
commandeer some rations from our farmer’s 
wife. ’ ’ 

Beyond the Beaufort campus the school farm 
lay. The farm-house was close to the roadside; 
the kitchen window was half open, and as they 
drew near Kenneth sniffed with satisfaction. 

“We ’ve struck it right. It ’s a gingerbread 
breeze with a doughnut zephyr.” He beat a rat- 
tat-tat on the window-pane and called: 

“Mrs. Andersen!” 

The Swedish housewife came to the door, and 
his announcement that the young lady on the 
horse was starving brought Raymonde a cordial 
invitation to come in and be fed at once. Ken- 
neth helped the starving young lady down from 
the saddle, and in a twinkling she found herself 
seated at the kitchen table, with hot gingerbread 
and doughnuts, milk and cottage cheese, set be- 
fore her, while her hostess urged a cup of tea. 
Kenneth led Victory away to the watering-trough. 
When he reappeared he remarked : 


248 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


i 1 Your brother ’s coming after you.” 

“Ned! Is he here?” Raymonde looked 
eagerly right and left. 

“He ’s not here yet, but I ’phoned him to come 
over. It may take a regular posse to get Madelon 
headed for home. I thought,” Kenneth went on 
to explain, “they ’d go easier on you at school if 
you had your brother to take you back. ’ ’ 

“Oh, Ken, you just think of everything!” ex- 
claimed the grateful girl. “And I do so want to 
see Ned again! Thank you ever and ever so 
much for sending for him! Where will he meet 
us?” 

“Where you get the trolley, on the Old Post 
Road. If we don’t show up pretty soon, though, 
he ’s to go on to the picnic grounds.” 

Kenneth helped Raymonde to remount, and 
they continued their march. 


CHAPTER XVI 


MILITAKY TACTICS 

R AYMONDE’S spirits were rising. As they 
journeyed she said to Kenneth: 

“I hope you ’re studying Japanese. Have you 
found out yet what those words on Madelon’s flag 
quilt mean? You won’t get your swords back till 
you do.” 

“The Mikado hasn’t mailed me my diploma 
yet,” replied Kenneth, evasively. “But I ’ll 
translate the thing for you some day. Don’t 
you worry ! ’ ’ 

“I had a big scare a while ago,” Raymonde an- 
nounced. “The first time I went home from 
school to see Daddy, I looked for that quilt — 
Maddie and I thought we ’d like it in our room at 
Netley. But I couldn’t find it anywhere. I 
wrote and asked Mother if she had put it away, 
and she wrote back that it was all safe. But she 
forgot to tell me where she ’d put it.” 

“Don’t let anybody burgle that quilt,” said 
Kenneth. “It ’s too valuable. Say, don’t you 
think Madelon ought to give it to me, after all my 
work learning Japanese?” 

A winding route brought them at last to Pleas- 

249 


250 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


ant Grove. Outside the gate of the picnic grounds 
stood a shabby hack and a lean and despondent 
horse. 

4 4 Look !” cried Raymonde. ‘ 4 That ’s hers, I ’ m 
sure.” 

The gate was open, inviting them to enter and 
enjoy the cool shade of the pretty little grove 
which spread over a knoll reached by a footpath. 
Invading this playground, they saw it to be well 
provided with swings and rustic tables, and just 
then populated by children. The older boys and 
girls were whirling joyously on a merry-go-round. 
The younger ones were gathered about a lassie 
whose costume formed a striking contrast to the 
blue-gingham aprons of her small companions. 
Madelon was found ! 

“Well, General, what are your orders?” asked 
Kenneth. “Will you go ahead as a cavalry 
screen for me?” 

“I ’m not much of a general,” Raymonde con- 
fessed. “I ’m sure I don’t know what to do, now 
I ’m here ! ’ ’ 

“This calls for strategy,” said Kenneth. 
“We ’ll surprise them while the pickets are off 
their guard. We must strike the enemy at their 
weakest point.” He scanned the field of battle 
and then glanced toward the road. “That hack 
horse looks like the weakest point. I ’d better 
put a bullet through him.” 

Leaving his general, the lieutenant marched 


MILITARY TACTICS 


251 


out of the gate. His method of putting a bullet 
through the horse was to fall into conversation 
with the driver. Their interview was brief. At 
the end of it, Raymonde saw Madelon’s hired 
equipage pass down the road, the emaciated steed 
trotting briskly, as if in hopes of seeing his stable 
again at last. 

Kenneth returned with the news, “ Their am- 
bulance corps is in full retreat ! ’ ’ 

Raymonde was laughing, yet half dismayed. 
“You sent away her hack. Oh, she ’ll be furious 
at you!” 

“It had to be did,” said the victorious warrior. 
“The hackman was growling. He told me he ’d 
bargained to drive her to the picnic grounds and 
back, but not to spend the whole afternoon here. 
He has to get ‘another party’ off to a train, and 
he was afraid she ’d make him lose his job; so I 
paid him off and sent him along. We couldn’t 
risk having Madelon jump into her hack and ride 
away from us. ” 

“No, indeed!” Raymonde assented. “Ken, 
that was grand strategy.” 

“Well, the outposts are ours,” said Kenneth. 
“Shall we deliver an attack on their center now, 
or execute a flanking move by this side path?” 

“We ’d better take the side path. I don’t 
want Maddie to see me till I ’ve thought what to 
say. I think I ’d better fight on foot. I must 
have a quiet talk with her. ’ ’ 


252 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“The Netley Light Infantry leads the assault, ’ ’ 
said the lieutenant, as he swung his general from 
her saddle. 

“I feel more like an infant than infantry,” 
owned poor Raymonde, forseeing the failure of 
her eloquence. “I know Maddie ’s going to put 
her foot down and flatly refuse to come.” 

“Then call out the reserves,” Kenneth advised. 
“Vic and I want to come in for some glory too. 
I ’ll be stationed on that northern redoubt, keep- 
ing up a desultory fire on the orphans. If you 
need help, wigwag, and I ’ll charge with the 
cavalry. ’ ’ 

They marched up the foot-path, the cavalry 
being led by Lieutenant Sterling. The merry- 
go-round had ceased its rasping music, and as 
they ascended a far sweeter sound floated down 
to them. This was the first week in May, and 
Madelon was singing an old English May-Day 
song. While she sang, she led a ring of children 
a merry dance around a small girl, whose cropped 
head was crowned with wild flowers, proclaiming 
her the May Queen. 

“Battalions, halt!” said Kenneth, as they 
reached the clump of trees at the top of the knoll. 
“You don’t want to charge across No Man’s Land 
yet, do you, General! We ’d better stay 
screened.” 

Behind the sheltering birches they watched, 
listening. Kenneth gazed admiringly at the May 


MILITARY TACTICS 


253 


Day dance. “That ’s a peach of a picture, isn’t 
it ? Madelon with all the kids around her ! She 
looks pretty happy, doesn’t she!” A comical 
expression of regret came into his face. “Pity 
to check that innocent mirth ! Don’t wake her up 
too rudely, Raymonde.” 

“I don’t like to wake her up at all,” said the 
soft-hearted general. “She looks so sweet and 
pretty, dancing! And she ’s giving the children 
such a lovely time ! See how she ’s dressed the 
little May Queen all up with flowers. Ah, Ken- 
neth, just think ! You sent away her hack ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ 1 know. ’ ’ Kenneth shook his head contritely. 
“She ’ll look different when she finds out, won’t 
she? Let ’s postpone the shoe as long as we 
can. You see, General, our game is to make her 
lose her train. Now her hack ’s gone, she ’ll have 
to take the trolley. That runs only every half 
hour. If she loses the next one, she ’ll miss 
her train. Leave her in sweet forgetfulness. 
Let ’s stay ambushed till she starts to come 
away. ’ ’ 

“That’s fine!” Raymonde agreed. “You 7 re 
the general ! Oh, I do hope she ’ll forget till it ’s 
too late ! You don’t think she can see us, do you? 
That matron, or whatever she is, over by the 
merry-go-round is glaring right at us. My, but 
she looks grim ! I pity the orphans ! What shall 
we do if she comes and tells us we ’ve no business 
at the picnic?” 


254 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“ Leave her to me. I ’ll charm her,” answered 
Kenneth. “She can’t resist my golden smile.” 

But the solemn-faced matron in charge of the 
frolicsome lambs of the orphanage, contented her- 
self with glaring, and the forces in ambush were 
allowed to watch the May-Day dance undisturbed. 

Unfortunately, Madelon was not so forgetful 
as Raymonde had hoped. When the ring of 
children paused, she took out her watch. Then 
the spies saw her break away from the devoted 
band that surged around her, unwilling to lose 
this delightful playmate. On she came till, near- 
ing the trees behind which the general and the 
lieutenant had sheltered themselves, she started 
and drew back. 

“It ’s all up with us now,” said Kenneth. 
“She sees us. Carry on, General!” 

Madelon stopped short as he and Raymonde 
came out from their hiding-place. Her stare of 
utter stupefaction changed to fear and defiance. 
She might, in very truth, have been a war-time 
fugitive hunted down by enemies and brought at 
last to bay. Raymonde sprang forward. 

“Maddie Madcap, you naughty wretch! You 
don’t know how pretty you looked, dancing with 
the children. We ’ve been watching you for ever 
so long.” 

“What are you doing here?” Madelon de- 
manded. 



“Oh, Maddie, I was so frightened about you! I’ve been all over, 
trying to find you!” 






































•.% ' 


■’ v* ■ ■ 








. 























































* 






MILITARY TACTICS 255 

4 ‘Oh, Maddie, I was so frightened about you! 
I ’ve been all over, trying to find you.’’ 

“I did n’t ask you to follow me!” was the petu- 
lant retort. 

Here Kenneth interposed his “golden smile.’ ’ 

“Hello, Madelon! Why didn’t you tell us you 
were coming so near my school? We fellows 
would have got up a dress parade in your honor.” 

Madelon ignored the gallant speech and ex- 
tended hand. Turning away she stalked down 
the foot-path. Raymonde rushed after her and 
caught her by the arm. 

“Maddie, dear, don’t he angry. I ’ve been so 
dreadfully worried about you!” 

“You needn’t have been,” returned Madelon, 
sharply. “How did you know I was here?” 

“The ice-cream girl said so. Madelon, don’t go 
to Valerie’s! Please, please don’t! Come back 
with me . Don’t run away from me. Don’t leave 
me all alone.” 

“How do you know I ’m going to Valerie?” 

“Because you bought a ticket to Glen wood. 
The station man said you had, and he showed 
me your bag. Oh, I ’ve been chasing after you 
everywhere. I dashed off the minute I came 
back from my ride ! I — ” 

“How did you find out I ’d gone?” Madelon 
interrupted. 

“Louis told me.” 


256 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Madelon stamped her foot with annoyance. 

“Well, yon were very silly to come racing after 
me!” she exclaimed, ungratefully. “You might 
know by this time that when I want to do a thing, 
I do it. And I won’t be interfered with, either.” 

“Do you call it interfering to try to stop you 
from doing such a crazy thing as this?” cried 
Raymonde. “Madelon D’Arcy, are you out of 
your mind?” 

“I ’d be out of my mind if I stayed any longer 
shut up at that old school , 9 ’ declared the runaway. 
“There ’s no use making a fuss, Raymonde. 
Valerie wants me, and I ’m going to her . That ’s 
all there is about it.” Then she burst out 
angrily : ‘ ‘ What did Kenneth Sterling come for ? 
Did he think I ’d go back any quicker for him?” 

i ‘ He only came to show me the way. Ah, Made- 
lon, do be good and come back now, or I ’ll think 
you don’t love me a bit. If Miss Cleveland gets 
home before we do, it ’ll be dreadful! I don’t 
know what will happen. Besides, I should think 
you ’d be afraid, going off all by yourself like this. 
You don’t reach Glenwood till half past seven, 
and the Van Arsdales live ten miles from the 
station. It ’ll be pitch dark before you get to 
the house. And you Ve never been there in your 
life before. You Ve no right to do it. Mother 
would never let me — I know that.” 

“Well, if I ’m not able to take care of myself 
at my age, I never shall be,” returned Madelon. 


MILITARY TACTICS 257 

Here Kenneth, following with Victory, inter- 
rupted : 

“Do the Van Arsdales know you ’re coming? 
Will they meet you at the train ?” 

“N-no, they don’t know yet. But I can tele- 
phone to them from the junction.” 

“No time for that,” he objected. 

“Yes, there will be. I ’ll make my hackman 
drive fast.” 

The general and the lieutenant exchanged 
glances. 

“Their phone may be out of commission,” said 
Kenneth. “What ’ll you do then?” 

“Take a hack at the Glenwood station, of 
course.” 

“7/ you find one.” 

“Nonsense! There are always hacks at sta- 
tions.” 

“Sometimes they ’re all taken,” Kenneth 
argued. 

“They won’t be. And if they are, I can go 
to a garage. But all those things won’t happen 
at once. Anyhow, I ’m going to the Van Arsdales’ 
and I ’m never coming back to school — never! 
Good-by, Ray.” With this hasty parting, Made- 
Ion sped on to the gate and out into the road, 
then stopped and stared. When the others 
caught up with her, she was looking wildly east 
and west. 

“Why — where — where ’s my hack? Why, it ’s 


258 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

gone! Did you see it go off?” she cried dis- 
tractedly. 

Kenneth looked inquiringly at his general. 

“Raymonde, it seems to me that you and I 
did witness some such incident.” 

Disappointment and rising anger fairly choked 
poor Madelon for a minute. Then, suspicion 
roused, she turned upon the two thwarters of her 
plans. 

“You did it yourselves.” 

Kenneth looked guileless. 

“Why, I paid your livery-stable bill. You 
don’t mind that, do you!” 

“You sent away my hack, and you had no right 
to do it,” stormed Madelon. “It was not fair. 
I didn’t think you could be so mean.” 

“Oh, come now, Madelon!” Kenneth protested, 
“I have some sparks of humanity. I can’t stand 
by and see an honest, hard-working hackman lose 
a good job. Your driver was hired to take an- 
other party to a train, and you were keeping him 
at the picnic without any of the eats. Think of 
him starving in sight of the orphans’ lunch- 
baskets. And think of t’ other party waiting 
hopelessly.” 

“I don’t care if there were ten other parties,” 
raged Madelon. “That was my hack, and you 
had no business to send it away. Kenneth Ster- 
ling, I thought you were a gentleman ! ’ ’ 

Kenneth flushed a deep red at this, and his eyes 


MILITARY TACTICS 


259 


lighted up with a sudden gleam that was like the 
fire so often kindled in her own. But, having shot 
her arrow, Madelon had to take her lip firmly be- 
tween her teeth, as she walked on with hasty steps. 
Burning scorn threatened to drown itself in tears 
of childish disappointment and temper. 

In a moment she was overtaken by the others. 

“Hold up, Madelon,’ ’ said Kenneth, speaking 
quickly and earnestly. a Don’t get the idea I 
sent off your hack to tease you. I shouldn't be 
a gentleman if I ’d done that. But you know we 
couldn’t let you go on to Glenwood alone. We 
had to stop you somehow. Besides, the man 
really was making an awful row. I tell you he ’d 
hired out to somebody else before you came along, 
and you were keeping him over-time.’ ’ 

Pride came to Madelon ’s aid, and she turned 
into a queen of tragedy. 

“Kenneth Sterling, I shall have absolutely 
nothing more to do with you after this. I shall 
not even speak to you. If we ever meet, I shall not 
even notice your presence. I shall ignore you 
utterly from now on.” With this dire threat, 
Madelon sailed majestically down the road. 

Kenneth turned to Raymonde. 

“Great Scot! What a flow of rhetoric she has 
at her command! I wish she ’d write for ‘The 
Cornet.’ We ’d name it ‘The Hornet’ then.” 

“Never mind, Ken,” answered his general, con- 
solingly. “She does n’t mean what she says. At 


260 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


least she won’t when she cools down. She ’s 
furious now, of course. I wonder if she ’ll deign 
to notice me, if I try her again.” 

Running forward, Raymonde overtook the of- 
fended princess. 

“Madelon, wait, stop! You know you mustn’t 
go to Glenwood. It ’s the wildest, craziest thing 
you could do. Miss Cleveland will simply come 
after you, right to the Van Arsdales’. And then 
think how ashamed you ’ll feel ! But if you come 
back with me, you won’t find it half as bad. 
Maddie dear, don’t spoil all your chances. Come 
back!” Raymonde placed her hand on her 
friend’s shoulder, and all her love and anxiety 
spoke through her pleading eyes. 

“No, I will not!” declared Madelon. ‘«‘Ray 
Heathcote, can’t you understand? I never, never, 
never can face the girls again ! And now you ’ve 
gone and told Kenneth Sterling all about me and 
made things worse. And he must needs come 
along, interfering and sending my hack away — 
as if it was anything to him where I go. You may 
talk from now till next year, but it won’t do any 
good. And now I ’ll have to walk all the way 
back to the station, and I ’m nearly dead, I ’m so 
tired!” 

Ready to cry with vexation and excitement and 
her growing sense of mortification as she realized 
that Kenneth must know the whole story of the 
red-fire tragedy, Madelon broke away from Ray- 


MILITARY TACTICS 


261 


monde and again started to hurry down the road. 
In despair Ray turned back to Kenneth and re- 
ported the failure of her pleading. 

“I suppose 1 ’ll have to have it out with her 
now, ’ ’ said he. 

Having helped his discouraged commander into 
the saddle again, he rejoined the young lady 
pledged to ignore him forever. 

“You won’t have to walk to the station,” he 
began. “I ’ll show you where you can take the 
trolley. ’ ’ 

Instantly and without replying, Madelon 
crossed from the right side of the road to the left. 
Kenneth crossed with her. Like a flash the girl 
recrossed the lane: so did her unwelcome escort. 
These zigzagging tactics suited him perfectly. 
They meant delay in reaching the trolley. Ray- 
monde rode past them, her head drooping. 

“Oh, dear!” she was thinking. “I ’ve done it 
all wrong! I haven’t said any of the things I 
meant to. I have n’t done any good at all. I ’ve 
only made it worse.” 

Kenneth glanced from my Lady Disdain at his 
side to Raymonde, riding bravely, but wearily, 
downcast and wounded in spirit. How light and 
little she looked up there on the horse, his gen- 
eral with the tumbled curls, the drooping head, 
and cheeks that had lost their rosy glow and were 
white with fatigue and disheartenment. 

6 ‘ Lucky that ’s a gentle horse ! ” he exclaimed. 


262 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“It ’s pretty risky riding alone, with an arm in a 
sling ! ’ ’. 

Madelon had apparently been stricken with 
deafness. But Kenneth continued his monologue. 

“Raymonde is a plucky one ! She looks played 
out, though, doesn’t she! She’s been on the 
go all day, and if I ’d left her to herself she 
wouldn’t have had a bite since breakfast. Had 
all her trouble for nothing, too — poor litttle thing! 
I ’m afraid she ’s all broken up. ’ ’ 

Madelon received this with stony silence. 

“And she ’ll have to go back and face a court- 
martial all alone. Too bad!” Kenneth went on. 
“I hope she won’t get an awful calling down!” 

There was no sign of attention from Madelon. 

“But she ’ll put up the best fight for you she 
can,” he continued. “She ’ll stand by you to the 
end. Raymonde looks to me like the sort of girl 
who ’ll stick by her friends through thick and 
thin!” 

Madelon ’s face became scarlet at this allusion to 
her disgrace. 

“See here, Madelon,” said Kenneth. “Ray- 
monde ’s told me about the rehearsal and all that, 
and I suppose you ’re sort of upset to think I 
know it. And I want to tell you right now that 
I think you were mighty plucky and square to own 
up the way you did, and never say a word about 
that other girl. And I don’t see why you ’re 
worrying so over that bonfire you lit up. Why, 


MILITARY TACTICS 


263 


I burnt up a whole barn full of hay when I was a 
kid ! Of course it takes a lot of nerve to face the 
music, and I don’t wonder you feel like bolting 
for good. But there ’ll be a thundering row when 
they haul you back from the Van Arsdales. 
They ’ll do it, you know, and that ’s what Ray- 
monde ’s trying to save you from.” 

He watched her closely and saw a nervous 
twitching about her mouth. 

‘ ‘Come on!” he urged. “Cut out the runaway 
stunt. It ’s the worst thing you could do!” 

There was dead silence. 

“You don’t have to answer me, you know,” said 
Kenneth. “You needn’t speak a word to me. 
But when we catch up with Raymonde just sing 
out that it ’s all right and you ’ll come back.” 

Madelon turned away quickly and kept her face 
averted, and Kenneth was seized with a sudden 
fear that she might be going to cry. In fact the 
tears were not far away, but she fought them 
back and fought down, too, a momentary impulse 
to yield. And so in silence the two walked on 
together. 

Before she reached the trolley-station, Ray- 
monde saw a familiar figure coming up the road 
at a comfortable, leisurely gait, amusingly differ- 
ent from Kenneth’s brisk military step. A min- 
ute later Victory was standing still, and Ray- 
monde was leaning from the saddle, with her free 
arm around her brother’s neck. 


264 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Oh, Ned, I need yon so!” 

“Poor little sister! What’s all this rumpus 
about? Had a scrap with Madelon? Toots 
phoned me she ’d cut and run and you were hunt- 
ing her down, with your hand hurt too! I had 
to lose the ball-game to come over. Trust a 
couple of girls to bust up a fellow’s plans!” 

What a relief it was to Raymonde to shift the 
burden of her woes to the broad shoulders of her 
life-long confidant! 

The brother and sister waited by the trolley- 
track till Kenneth arrived with his wilful com- 
panion. Madelon had another unwelcome sur- 
prise on confronting Ned, and the color rose in 
her cheeks. But the leisurely one greeted her in 
his easy, off-hand way, as if this were a mere 
pleasure-jaunt for them all. 

“Dandy day, isn’t it?” he said genially. 
“Sort of warm!” Then he turned aside for a 
hasty consultation with her escort. 

At the end of this council, out of the girls’ 
hearing, Kenneth said: “I ’ve got to do it, Doc. 
It ’s up to me to take care of her. Look here ! 
Is that Miss Cleveland safe? She wouldn’t let 
out anything, would she?” 

“Sure, she ’s safe,” answered Ned. 

“All right, then. Go ahead and tell her every- 
thing. You ’d better do it.” 

“You mean,” began Ned, “I ’m to tell her that 
you — ” 


MILITARY TACTICS 


265 


4 ‘Look out!” Kenneth interrupted him, for 
Raymonde was coming to announce that the car 
was in sight. And the conversation ended 
abruptly. 

“You come on with Madelon and me in the car, 
Ray,” said Ned, helping his sister down from the 
saddle. “Ken ’s going to ride Vic over to the 
station. He ’ll take a short cut and meet us.” 

When they boarded the car, Madelon retreated 
to a nook by an open window, and Raymonde 
dropped into a place at her side. Ned turned 
the back of a seat over and settled himself facing 
the two girls. Madelon threw him a sharp look. 

“Well, I wonder how many more people I ’m 
going to meet this afternoon!” she exclaimed. 
‘ ‘ Did you come on my account f ’ ’ 

Ned glanced up in dreamy surprise. 

“No — came on Ray’s account. Have to take 
her back to school. ’ ’ 

“I suppose she ’s told you everything,” re- 
marked Madelon, crisply. 

Ned nodded, politely covering up a yawn. 

“Well, there ’s no use your saying a word about 
it!” she declared. “My mind’s made up and 
nothing can change it. I ’m going to stay with 
my friends, the Van Arsdales. So there ’s not 
the slightest good in arguing with me.” 

“I wasn’t going to argue — it’s too warm,” 
Ned lazily drawled. 

But Madelon was in a mood for hot debate. 


266 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“As if I could n’t take care of myself !” she 
scoffed. “It ’s too ridiculous ! ’ ’ 

Ned chuckled amiably. “Why, yes, it will look 
pretty ridiculous, won’t it! Two people they 
don’t expect landing on the Van What ’s-their- 
names, at nine o ’clock at night ! ’ ’ 

“Two people!” echoed Madelon. “Why, it ’s 
only I.” 

“And Ken,” added Ned. “He says if you go, 
he ’ll have to go too and take care of you. ’ ’ 

“How perfectly idiotic!” burst out Madelon. 
“He sha’n’t do it! I should think he ’d be 
ashamed even to think of going when he is n ’t 
wanted.” 

“Tootsie has nerve,” Ned assented. 

“Well, Madelon, I think it ’s fine of him to go 
with you when you won’t even speak to him,” de- 
clared Raymonde. 

‘ i Hm ! ’ ’ mused Ned. “I would n ’t be in Toots ’s 
shoes when he shows up before his command- 
ant! Let ’s see, when ’ll that be! About — ” he 
pulled a time-table from his pocket — “about half 
past four Sunday afternoon. There ’s no train 
back to Beaufort to-night.” 

“There now! That settles it!” cried Madelon, 
triumphantly. “He can’t go. He ’ll have no 
place to sleep. He can’t stay at the Van Ars- 
dales’ — he ’s not invited.” 

“Oh, he ’ll be all right over night,” Ned as- 
sured her. “He can sleep on a bench in the sta- 


MILITARY TACTICS 


267 


tion. Do him good! He ’s a soldier. But to- 
morrow there Ml be the mischief to pay. Poor 
old chappie! I see his finish when he gets back 
to camp.” Ned found expression for his feelings 
in a long, low, melancholy whistle, as if words 
failed him in which to depict the awful penalties 
destined to fall on Lieutenant Sterling’s devoted 
head, when he returned after deserting camp with- 
out leave from his superior officer. 

“They won’t punish him for doing his duty, 
will they?” cried Raymonde, looking ready for 
war with Beaufort. 

“What ’ll they do to him?” asked Madelon. 

Ned thought it wise policy to suggest the 
gloomiest possibilities. His face grew long and 
lugubrious. 

“Can’t say for certain,” he replied. “All I 
know is, it ’s martial law at Beaufort, and martial 
law knows no pity.” 

4 ‘ Oh, dear ! They won’t expel him, will they ? ’ ’ 
gasped Raymonde. 

“An insubordinate soldier is liable to be cash- 
iered,” grimly answered her brother. 

“What ’s that?” she asked. 

“Dismissed with dishonor. It ’ll be no joke 
when the poor old boy reports to the commandant. 
He ’s in for trouble enough, anyhow. This night 
off without leave of absence is going to lower his 
whole standing and smash into his graduation. 
And of course they ’ll have to make him an object- 


268 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


lesson to the other cadets. Cashiered or not, 
he ’ll get it in the neck. There ’ll be no more de- 
sertions from that school. You can bank on that. 
Pretty rough, is n’t it! He ’s one of the best all- 
round fellows they have up there!” 

Madelon gazed moodily at her gloves. 

“It ’ll be his own fault, then,” she insisted. 
“He ought to know by this time that I don’t want 
him. Oh, my patience me! You ’re all as fussy 
as a pack of old maids.” And with this exasper- 
ated outburst, she turned to stare glumly out of 
the window. 

Arriving at the trolley terminus, which was 
next door to the station, they saw a long cloud of 
smoke advancing. The train was coming. Made- 
Ion darted to the ticket-office and excitedly de- 
manded her suitcase. As it was being handed 
out to her, Ned’s long arm reached over her shoul- 
der. 

“I ’ll take the young lady’s grip for her,” he 
said. 

Madelon made a snatch for her luggage, but he 
courteously refused to part with it. 

“No, no, — let me, please. It ’s too heavy for 
you.” Holding fast the prize, he followed the 
girls out to the platform. 

The train had stopped. 

“Give me my suitcase this minute, Ned! I 
can’t go without it,” cried Madelon. 

“We don’t want you to go without it — or with 


MILITARY TACTICS 


269 


it, either/ ’ Ned answered bluntly, and crippled 
Raymonde, with all the force of her left hand, 
gripped Madelon ’s arm and tried to hold her 
back. 

“Maddie, you shan’t go! I won’t let you! 
Ned, can’t you make her stop?” 

“That ’s what I ’m trying to do,” said Ned, 
swinging the suitcase beyond the reach of Made- 
Ion’s outstretched hand. 

“All aboard!” called the conductor. 

“Give me my bag this instant. Give it to me, 
I say!” cried the almost frantic girl. 

“I will when the train ’s gone.” 

For a moment Madelon stood helplessly, as if 
she felt herself foiled. Then suddenly she 
wrenched herself free from Raymonde ’s grasp. 

“Well, keep the old bag, if you want it so much! 
But you can’t keep me/” With these parting 
words, Madelon flew to the steps of the car and in 
a flash had sprung aboard and vanished through 
the doorway. Raymonde, gazing up in despair as 
the train began to move, saw her through the car 
window as she passed down the aisle to find a 
vacant seat. Slowly, slowly, then with a heavier 
rumble and gaining speed, the Glenwood train 
rolled away from Beaufort Junction, and Made- 
lon, breathing hard like one who had come to the 
end of a long and desperate flight, congratulated 
herself on having outmanoeuvered Lieutenant 
Kenneth Sterling. 


CHAPTER XVII 

WHO WON THE DAY ? 

I T was almost eight o’clock. The accommoda- 
tion train, half an hour late, was nearing Glen- 
wood Station. A very tired girl, whose luncheon 
had consisted of ice-cream and poor cake at 
Hickey’s, and peanuts and candy at the picnic 
grounds, had roused herself from a state of dull 
wretchedness at the conductor’s call, “Glenwood 
next!” 

What an insufferable train! It had crawled 
and stuck, crawled and stuck, till she could have 
cried with vexation. It had also given her time 
to live through a variety of moods and do a good 
deal of useful thinking. Madelon had felt an 
exhilarating sense of triumph during the first few 
miles of her journey. She had beaten Kenneth 
in the race to Beaufort Junction, paying him back 
well for his high-handed dismissal of her hack. 
Elation had soon ebbed, however, for though Va- 
lerie, she knew, would greet her with open arms, 
yet now that Madelon was actually on the Glen- 
wood train, she had begun to feel less confident of 
the pleasure that the unexpected appearance of a 
disobedient runaway would bring to Valerie’s 
270 


WHO WON THE DAY? 


271 


mother. No doubts as to her welcome had dis- 
turbed her when she had packed her satchel in 
hot haste and fled from the school, while Mrs. 
Mills was busy in the linen room, and those of 
her classmates who had been kept within bounds 
were amusing themselves in a distant part of the 
campus. Now she was growing more and more 
nervous; still she hoped that her friends would 
protect her if Raymonde’s warning should come 
true and Miss Cleveland pursue the fugitive to the 
Van Arsdales’. Surely they would be willing to 
keep her till her aunt’s return. Over and over 
again Madelon told herself that she would not go 
back to Netley Hall, the scene of her humiliation. 

The train was slowing down, stopping! Glen- 
wood at last ! Madelon sprang up and hurried to 
the door. Another moment and she had descended 
from the car and was standing on the platform. 
Deep twilight was all around her, and before her 
was a pitiful apology for a station, illuminated by 
one light. Through the heavy gloom, fast dark- 
ening into night, she saw waiting a single auto, 
the only conveyance on hand. She hastened to- 
ward it, but another traveler reached it first. A 
man with a bag brushed past her, stepped into the 
vehicle, and was off and away, leaving her staring 
helplessly. Glenwood was neither a town nor a 
village. It consisted merely of the station and 
a few scattered buildings. No, it did not look as 
if garages flourished in this barren and for- 


272 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


saken region. Madelon remembered Kenneth’s 
horrible suggestion that the Yan Arsdales’ tele- 
phone might be out of order. If that should be 
the case where was the lonely girl to spend the 
night? In this dismal station or out on the plat- 
form? Those nightmare thoughts flashed through 
her mind as she gazed after the disappearing auto- 
mobile. 

“Well, where do we go from here?” inquired a 
friendly voice, a familiar one, too. 

Madelon jumped and turned. There stood 
Kenneth Sterling! He was holding her suit-case. 
In the shock of amazement my lady forgot her 
vow to ignore him utterly the next time they met. 

“How did you get here?” she gasped. 

“By the same train you did. I was in the car 
behind yours. Had to deliver the grip, you 
know. ’ ’ Kenneth did not add that more than once 
in the course of the journey he had spied on her 
to make sure that she was safe. 

Madelon recollected herself. She tried her best 
to show offended pride, but the result was not 
very successful. Her relief at finding some one 
to help her was too great. , 

“I didn’t see you at the Junction,” she said ini 
a dazed voice. 

“I nearly got left,” he owned. “I jumped 
aboard as the train was starting. ’ 9 

“You ’ll be cashiered!” cried Madelon. “Ned 


WHO WON THE DAY ? 


273 


said yon would ! They ’ll do something dreadful 
to you at your school.” 

“If I ’m shot for a deserter you ’ll be quit of 
me for keeps,” replied Kenneth. 4 ‘ Well,” he 
went on, “we ’ve lost the only auto! What ’s the 
next move? Phone the Van Arsdales?” 

“I ’d better,” assented Madelon, and there was 
no fight left in her voice. 

They entered the station where an official 
pointed out the telephone with a jerk of his thumb. 
The Van Arsdales’ phone was not out of commis- 
sion, but when Madelon had hung up the receiver 
she came back to Kenneth, despair written on her 
face. 

‘ ‘ They ’re all out ! ’ ’ she told him. ‘ ‘ One of 
their maids answered me. She says they ’re all 
out motoring, and they won’t be back till late to- 
night! What shall I do?” 

It was Kenneth’s turn to take command. He 
called up the only place in South Glenwood where, 
in the opinion of the station-master, motors were 
to be hired. 

“Nothing doing,” was his report as he turned 
away from the telephone. “They ’ve only three 
cars and two are out and one is broken down.” 

A sob rose in poor Madelon ’s throat. But 
here the station-master came to the rescue: there 
was Joe Conklin up on the hill about a mile away; 
he had a Ford, didn’t like to hire out as a rule, 


274 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


was kinder cranky about it, but he might be 
willing. 

“Do you mind tramping in the dark?” asked 
Kenneth. 

“Of course I don’t mind,” she answered, pre- 
ferring any kind of adventure to being left in that 
dreary station. 

“Wait a second,” said Kenneth, before they set 
out. “I ’ll call up one of the fellows at school 
and get him to tell them that I ’m called out of 
town unexpectedly. ’ ’ 

Madelon waited outside the station. 

“Will that make it all right?” she asked anx- 
iously when he reappeared. 

“Well, I ’m not shot yet,” he replied cheer- 
fully. “And while there ’s life there ’s hope. 
To-morrow ’s Sunday, so they won’t put a hole 
through me till Monday, I guess. ’ ’ 

“Oh, don’t tease!” she exclaimed petulantly. 
“Well, anyhow, 1 didn’t ask you to get yourself 
into such a scrape.” 

“You sure didn’t,” he agreed, and they sal- 
lied forth to find Joe Conklin. 

Bad tempers seemed to be epidemic in the Glen- 
wood district. They left the station only to en- 
counter a most unfriendly dog that rushed out at 
them from the small tavern near the railway. 
Kenneth caught up a big stick and threatened the 
cur, so that it contented itself with snarling defi- 
ance, but he retained his stout staff lest any more 


WHO WON THE DAY? 275 

dogs should be rude enough to contest their right 
of way. 

The only settlement that they passed on their 
lonely tramp consisted of a cluster of shacks be- 
longing to Italian laborers employed on the rail- 
road. Loud, angry voices rose as they ap- 
proached. A quarrel was nearing its height, and 
they had to push by a group of men jabbering 
fiercely at each other in their foreign lingo, as if 
on the point of whipping out knives. Involun- 
tarily the frightened girl clung to Kenneth’s arm 
for protection as he steered her hastily past the 
war-like gang. 

“Suppose he hadn’t come and I ’d had to find 
my way to the Conklins alone past those dread- 
ful creatures!” she thought, with a shudder. 

Heavy dusk gave place to night — happily a 
starlit one, so that they could see their way step 
by step, though none too clearly. Suddenly a 
furious volley of barking broke out, and two more 
dogs — their black shapes made Madelon think of 
wolves — came flying through the darkness to at- 
tack the lonely travelers. Usually she was not 
afraid of dogs, but the onslaught of these big 
savage brutes turned her cold and trembling. 

“I ’ll keep ’em off. Walk on as if you didn’t 
notice them. Don’t let them think you ’re 
afraid,” said Kenneth, and the stick he carried 
did good service once more. At every step the 
trembling girl found her defender and his weapon 


276 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


between her and the attackers. For some dis- 
tance they refused to leave the wayfarers in peace 
and kept making rushes, but these always ended 
in hasty retreats as Kenneth charged with his 
cudgel. 

‘‘I think they ’d have eaten me up if I ’d been 
alone,’ ’ said a faint voice at his side, when at last 
their tormentors had retired for good. 

That was the longest mile over which Madelon 
had ever trudged, and the journey was for the 
most part a silent one, except for the din made 
by Italians and dogs. The poor girl, weary and 
hungry, felt shy and awkward, as she recalled her 
unflattering remarks to her escort earlier in the 
day. 

At last they were on the brow of the hill where 
stood the farm-house to which they had been di- 
rected. Another outburst of barking made Made- 
Ion fear a third attack as they turned in at the 
gate; but they were unmolested, for the dog that 
now objected to their advance was chained to his 
kennel. A light was burning, and through the 
window they could see a woman seated in a rock- 
ing-chair, sewing. The unusual sound of her 
door-bell ringing brought the dame to the door, 
holding her lamp above her head so that its light 
shone in the faces of her unexpected callers. She 
was followed by a freckled lad with sun-bleached 
hair. He was collarless and had one boot off and 
the other unlaced, as if he were on his way to bed. 


WHO WON THE DAY? 


277 


“Yes, this is Conklin , s, ,, said the woman, in 
answer to Kenneth’s inquiry, “but he ain’t got 
home yet.” 

Kenneth explained their errand and their 
plight. But when he asked how soon Mr. Conk- 
lin was expected, she exclaimed: 

“Well now, that ’s too bad! I don’t look for 
him to get back much before midnight. His 
brother come here this morning in his buggy, and 
they drove over to Newton on business. His 
Ford ’s here, but that don’t help you much. I 
don’t know how to run the thing, and I dassent 
trust Willie — he ’s too young.” 

“Aw, Mommer! I kin run her as good as 
Popper kin,” objected Willie. 

“No, Willie, you can’t. I dassent trust you, 
not without your Popper setting right beside you 
— let alone it ’s being night. You ’re too young 
and too awful reckless.” 

“Would you trust me to drive the car?” asked 
Kenneth. 

“Can you run it?” said Mrs. Conklin. 

“I drive my uncle’s,” he answered. 

She eyed his uniform. 

“Say, do you belong to the militia?” 

“No, I ’m only a Beaufort cadet. I understand 
a Ford, though. And we ’ve got to get over to 
the Van Arsdales ’ somehow. If you ’ll let me be 
the chauffeur I promise to bring the car right 
back.” 


278 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

‘ 1 Well, I guess you ’re all right,” replied Mrs. 
Conklin, hesitatingly, “but I dunno as I could let 
you have it. My husband ’s awful particular 
about his car.” 

“So is my uncle about his,” said Kenneth. 

“Well — I ’d like to oblige you, but — I dunno.” 

“Well, anyhow, won’t you tell us where we can 
get some supper?” said Kenneth. “You have n’t 
had anything all day but some ice-cream, have 
you, Madelon?” 

“I had some peanuts and candy,” admitted the 
famished girl. “I am hungry! I feel funny and 
shaky, too!” 

“Poor child, you ’re starving!” cried the farm- 
er’s wife. “Come right in and I ’ll give you both 
some supper.” She led the way into the sitting- 
room. “Willie, you go and bring in some more 
kindling. Now I guess you folks wouldn’t mind 
some fried eggs and bacon and some pie. And a 
cup of coffee, too.” 

“That would be great,” Kenneth assured his 
hostess. 

“Now you take off your hat, dear,” said Mrs. 
Conklin to Madelon, “and you and your brother 
set right down here while I get your supper 
ready. ’ ’ 

“He ’s not my brother,” Madelon corrected. 

Mrs. Conklin looked from one to the other. 
“Why, ain’t you brother and sister?” 


WHO WON THE DAY? 279 

“No, of course not,” replied Madelon. 
“We ’re only friends.” 

“Well now, ain’t that funny!” exclaimed Mrs. 
Conklin. “I thought you kind of favored each 
other. ’ ’ 

“Favored each other?” Madelon looked puz- 
zled. 

“I meant you sort of looked alike,” Mrs. Conk- 
lin explained. 

“That ’s more complimentary to me than to 
her,” remarked Kenneth. “She ’s very tired 
now,” he added. “She ’ll feel better as soon as 
she gets something to eat.” 

“Yes, I ’ll hurry right along,” said Mrs. Conk- 
lin, going into the kitchen. 

“Wasn’t it odd she thought we looked alike?” 
said Madelon, when the two were left alone. “I 
suppose it was because we came in together, and 
she thought we must be brother and sister. 
Well, we both have dark hair, to be sure, but 
mine ’s much darker than yours : it ’s almost 
black. And my eyes are almost black, too. But 
your eyes are — ” 

“Green, probably,” said Kenneth. 

“No, they’re not!” she contradicted. 
“They’re dark hazel. My Aunt Edith says I 
have a very wilful mouth. What kind of a mouth 
have you?” 

“Give it up. Never saw it,” replied Kenneth. 


280 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“Then I 'll tell you," said Madelon, studying 
that feature. “You have a very obstinate 
mouth. ’ ' 

“That 's why Mrs. Conklin saw a likeness be- 
tween us. We 're both of us stubborn," said 
Kenneth. 

The girl that had matched her will against his 
that day grew restless as the minutes went by. 
Weary though she was, she rose and moved about 
the room. She ran her fingers over the keys of 
Mrs. Conklin's cabinet organ. At last the ques- 
tion came out. 

“Kenneth, why did you do it? Why did you 
come with me? Did you think it was going to 
turn out like this and everything go wrong?" 

“I thought you might get into some kind of a 
fix," he answered. 

“But you knew it would make trouble at your 
school, and — I didn’t want you to. What made 
you come with me — after — after the way I acted 
to-day?" 

“Oh, well," he answered, “I had a little sister 
once. If I had her now, I wouldn't let her get 
stranded alone at night." 

“Why, I didn’t know you ever had a sister!" 
exclaimed Madelon, and added softly, “Did she 
die, too — like your mother?" 

“I lost my little sister the same time I lost 
my mother," Kenneth answered. “I don't like 
to think about that time much." He started to 


WHO WON THE DAY! 281 

his feet. “I ’m going to have a look at that 
Ford,” he said abruptly, and left the room. 

By the time that he had come back from inspect- 
ing the car, supper was ready, and never before 
had sizzling eggs and bacon tasted so delicious. 

‘ ‘ Well, how about that machine! Are you 
ready to trust me yet!” Kenneth asked when the 
repast was over. “I ’ll tell you, Mrs. Conklin, 
if you do let me take your Ford, I think Miss 
D ’Arcy would be awfully glad if you ’d come along 
too and sort of keep her company. Your boy can 
sit up in front with me, and if I don’t suit you as 
a chauffeur I ’ll turn the job over to him.” 

“Aw, come on, Mommer,” urged Willie, 
4 ‘what ’s you so skeered of! Course he kin run 
her and so kin I.” 

“Well, I guess he can all right, if you can’t. 
We could get over to South Glenwood and back 
before your Popper gets home. I wouldn’t like 
him to find the house shut \ip, but I guess there ’s 
no danger of that.” 

She had yielded, and it having been settled that 
Kenneth should spend the night at the farm- 
house, he went out with Willie to bring the ma- 
chine around. 

So at last, after these many vicissitudes, Made- 
Ion found herself riding through the night to 
South Glenwood, to the friends who “loved her 
just the same.” Kenneth proved himself a 
chauffeur with whom Mrs. Conklin could find no 


282 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


fault, and after a nine-mile run they turned in at 
the Van Arsdales’ gate. The car stopped. They 
were at the door. Madelon took a grateful fare- 
well of “Mommer” and Willie. Kenneth rang 
the bell, and in another moment an astonished 
butler, standing in the flood of light from the wide 
hall, exclaimed: 

“Why, Miss D’Arcy!” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


CAPTIVES 

W HEN the Glenwood train began to move 
out from Beaufort Junction, and Ray- 
monde turned her despairing gaze away from the 
window through which she had caught a last 
glimpse of Madelon, whom should she behold, 
standing on the platform of the rear car, but Ken- 
neth Sterling, waving his hat in farewell. 

“I left Vic at the livery stable across the road !” 
he shouted back. “ Good-by, General! Good 
luck to you! So long, Doc!” He was whirled 
out of view as the train sped onward. 

The brother and sister, left behind, looked at 
each other and burst out laughing. 

“Did you see me shoot Madelon ’s grip to him?” 
said Ned. “He just made it! Well, old girl, 
I ’ve got to transport you back to school now. 
I ’ll have to bring Vic over later, myself. Poor 
old Tootsie ’ll be in the guard-house!” 

Raymonde ’s momentary mirth gave place to re- 
newed gloom as she thought of the penalties in 
store for Kenneth. 

“Ned,” said she, when they were in the trol- 

283 


284 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

ley, speeding toward Ridgemont, 4 4 after you met 
us this afternoon, you and Ken went off and talked 
together ; but when I came near, you both stopped 
short. What were you talking about ?” 

4 4 Little kiddies like you mustn’t ask ques- 
tions,” was the teasing reply. 

4 4 Now, Ned, behave! Tell me what it was.” 

4 4 Look at that tree ! ’ 9 exclaimed her brother, ex- 
citedly. 

4 4 What ’s the matter with it?” cried Ray, look- 
ing in vain for something peculiar. 

4 4 It ’s an ordinary tree, that ’s what ’s the mat- 
ter with it,” drawled Ned. 

4 4 Oh, pshaw! You just said that because you 
did n’t want to answer me. But what ’s the harm 
in my knowing what you boys were talking 
about ? ’ ’ 

4 4 The scenery on the way to Ridgemont is re- 
markably fine,” Ned observed. 

4 4 No, it ’s not. It ’s remarkably stupid,” his 
sister contradicted. 

But comments on the beauties of nature were 
all that Miss Inquisitive could draw from her 
brother. 

Netley Hall had been in a state of turmoil ever 
since Madelon’s flight had been discovered and 
Raymonde had failed to reappear after her horse- 
back ride. Ned, boylike, had not troubled him- 
self to waste ten cents on a telephone message an- 
nouncing that the fugitives were safe, and so dis- 


CAPTIVES 285 

traction still reigned when Runaway Number Two 
returned. 

Mrs. Mills met Raymonde with a look of stern 
reproach, gravely ordered her to her room, and 
then followed to help the girl with the crippled 
hand make herself tidy against that awful mo- 
ment when the principal should come home. Fi- 
nally, just as the trained nurse was dressing the 
burn once more, Raymonde heard the rah! rah! 
rahs! of the hockey team, returning victorious 
from the match at St. Agatha’s. 

Lee and Petronella, Tommy and Lois, were 
greeted by Kathleen with the tidings, “Madelon 
ran away, and Ray ran after her, and her 
brother ’s just brought her back!” 

Raymonde, waiting in Old Glory Cottage, at 
last received a summons to appear before Miss 
Cleveland. She went over to the Executive Man- 
sion, as the girls had nicknamed the principal’s 
house, and little did she suspect that Ned, to whom 
she had said good-by more than an hour ago, had 
just departed with extreme satisfaction written on 
his face, after a confidential interview with the 
head of Netley Hall. 

Pupils requiring a lecture were usually re- 
ceived in Miss Cleveland’s study and found her 
seated at her office desk, looking extremely busi- 
nesslike. Raymonde, to her surprise, was called 
into the principal’s cosy parlor where every- 
thing was homelike and cheery, and where Miss 


286 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Cleveland was resting in an easy-chair. The 
soft light from the reading-lamp shone on her 
face, noble and strong and kindly. With calm 
eyes and a steady, searching gaze, she looked at 
the girl coming in all flushed with excitement and 
distress. Raymonde did not wait to be ques- 
tioned. Standing there and forgetting to excuse 
her own part in the breaking of the law, she began 
a passionate pleading for her friend. 

“Miss Cleveland, Madelon only ran away be- 
cause she couldn’t stand it any longer and she 
couldn’t bear to think of ever facing the other 
girls again. She ’s so dreadfully ashamed of her- 
self, it ’s almost killing her. And she can’t get 
over having burned the flag, and she thinks she 
was a coward because she ran from the fire at 
first. But she came right back, you know, and she 
was so brave about confessing. She thinks she ’s 
disgraced forever, though, and it ’s driving her 
wild. That ’s what made her run away. Oh, if 
you could only see how she feels ! But you ’ll 
take her back again, won’t you — and give her an- 
other chance? You won’t send her away?” 

“My poor child, you are very much excited 
and all tired out.” Miss Cleveland’s voice was 
grave, but very gentle. 

Raymonde was tired out. Her nerves by this 
time were strained to the breaking point, and at 
the kind words the flush on her face deepened and 


CAPTIVES 287 

her lips quivered suddenly. Miss Cleveland held 
out her hand. 

“Little runaway, come and confess the whole 
story.’ ’ 

Down sank the returned wanderer on the floor 
at Miss Cleveland’s feet. Down went her curly 
head in Miss Cleveland’s lap. And the confes- 
sion had to wait a while, for, as a kind hand 
stroked her hair with a soothing touch, Raymonde 
ended her pleading in a burst of tears. 

Late that evening a telephone message from 
Mrs. Van Arsdale informed the principal that 
Madelon was safe in the home of her friends. 
The fugitive was allowed to remain there over 
Sunday, but early on Monday morning Mrs. Mills 
was despatched to South Glenwood to bring her 
back to school. 

Defiant no longer, but sullen and utterly dispir- 
ited, with pale cheeks and dark shadows under her 
eyes, Madelon returned to Netley Hall. Oh, 
never as long as she lived, would she forget Miss 
Cleveland’s grave words of rebuke! The poor 
girl broke down completely before the interview 
was over, and it was through sobs and tears that 
she listened to the sentence pronounced upon her 
for this new offence. 

She was not expelled ; she was suspended. But 
to send her to her guardian’s home was impossi- 
ble, for after her return from the south Mrs. 


288 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Morgan had flitted off again and was now accom- 
panying her husband on a trip to the west. It 
was out of the question to exile Aunt Edith’s ward 
beyond the gates of Netley, and so Madelon was 
to spend the next three weeks in the principal’s 
own cottage, the Executive Mansion itself! The 
ordeal in the study over, she was led up-stairs to 
the pretty room which was to be hers. As soon 
as she was left alone, she flung herself face down- 
ward on her bed, and pressed her feverish, aching 
forehead into the grateful coolness of the pillow. 
Three weeks of exile here? A whole lifetime it 
seemed to the captive. Day after day — day after 
day — prison, prison, prison! 

The door opened. Madelon started from her 
pillow. 

4 4 Here I am, and my bed ’s coming after me!” 
sang a cheery voice. 

In rushed Raymonde and gave her a hug. 

44 1 ’m a prisoner, too!” she announced joy- 
ously. 44 I ’m in for as long as you are. Cheer 
up, Princess! We ’ll have the loveliest, cosiest 
time together!” 

Madelon started to her feet. 

4 4 What do you mean?” she asked in a dazed 
fashion. 

44 Why, I ran away too, did n’t I? So I ’m sus- 
pended, too!” 

4 4 No! No! You ’re not! Oh, Ray, you can’t 


CAPTIVES 289 

be. You didn’t do anything wrong. You only 
came to find me.” 

4 ‘But I did do wrong,” Raymonde contradicted. 
“Miss Cleveland says I did. I had no right to 
disobey like that. She says I — ” 

“Miss Cleveland ’s a cruel, heartless woman, 
then ! ’ ’ broke out Madelon. “It ’s wicked of her. 
I never heard of anything so unfair.” Then, as 
a sudden thought struck her, she gripped the 
brass rail of her bed. “Raymonde — did you ask 
her to suspend you?” 

“Why, I have to be punished in some way,” 
Ray blithely explained. “Miss Cleveland was 
going to keep me in bounds for two weeks, and 
then she decided to let me have my choice, and I 
chose this” 

“I ’d like to shake you!” almost sobbed Made- 
Ion. “You ’ve gone and begged Miss Cleveland 
to send you here just to keep me company ! But I 
won’t have you. I don’t want you.” 

“Don’t you? Well, / want you — and I ’m the 
important person,” replied Raymonde, calmly. 
“What a duck of a dungeon cell this is! And 
it ’ll be duckier still this evening, when they bring 
over my bed and bureau and your desk. Our old 
room didn’t have any view at all. I ’m so glad 
we ’ve moved!” 

Madelon took her by the shoulders. 

“Raymonde Heathcote, do you think I ’m such 


290 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


a selfish wretch that I ’ll feel any better for hav- 
ing you here too?” 

“I think 1 ’ll feel better for having you — that ’s 
the main point,” Ray interrupted. 

‘ ‘You won’t feel any better if you see me die!” 
declared Madelon. “I shall die here. It ’s go- 
ing to kill me.” 

“No, you ’re going to stay very much alive with 
me here to hop you up and dance you round the 
room!” chirped her fellow-captive. 

“You won’t feel much like dancing when you ’ve 
tried suspension a little while,” was Madelon ’s 
warning. “Do you know what you ’re doing? 
Cutting yourself out of all the fun of school! 
Why, you can’t even be with the girls for your les- 
sons, you can’t even speak to them if you ’re sus- 
pended. And you ’ll lose all the athletics and rid- 
ing and everything you care for!” 

“I sha’n’t lose the thing I care most for,” an- 
swered Raymonde, “for it ’s right here in this 
room. It ’s you” 

Yet Madelon insisted: 

“You sha ’n ’t stay here ! Y ou sha ’n ’t ! I ’ll go 
to Miss Cleveland myself, and tell her how cruel 
it is to let you lose everything.” 

“Too late! Too late!” rejoiced Raymonde. 
“When Miss Cleveland gives an order, she never 
takes it back, and she ’s ordered me to prison.” 

“Don’t go on like this!” cried Madelon, in 
despair. “You needn’t think it’ll make it any 


CAPTIVES 291 

easier for me to see you shut up here. It ’ll only 
make it worse! Oh — I can’t bear it!” 

“And if I had to stay shut out from here and 
had to think about you all alone by yourself, 1 
couldn’t bear it!” said Raymonde. “Princess, 
dear, if one of us has to be miserable, I ’d really 
rather have it — you.” 

By and by the captives’ dinner was brought in 
on a tray, and a very good dinner it was, not at 
all like prison fare. While they were sitting 
tete-a-tete at the little table, Raymonde asked: 

“Did you have a nice time at Valerie ’sf ” 

“No! Perfectly horrible!” returned Madelon, 
with disgust. “Valerie wasn’t there at all — 
she ’d gone away. I only found her mother and 
some grown-up visitors. Oh, Ray, I had the worst 
luck right straight through ! If it had n’t been for 
Kenneth, I ’d never have got to the house at all. 
And when he did land me there at last, in a farm- 
er’s machine, Mrs. Van Arsdale nearly had a fit. 
She ’d just come back from taking Val over to 
Allenville to stay with Doris Honeywell till Tues- 
day. Val was so cross because I couldn’t come 
for the week-end that her mother had to make it 
up to her that way. Doris is her other chum, and 
I ’m sure I don’t see what Val finds in her to 
adore so. I can’t bear Doris. Well, I hardly 
slept a wink the first night, and next day I was 
down with a horrible headache! Mrs. Van Ars- 
dale was afraid I had something catching, because 


292 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


I had a temperature. She made me stay in bed 
all day and she sent for the doctor. And she 
asked me if I was sure they hadn’t had any 
measles or scarlet fever at school. And she 
would n’t come into my room. She ’d just pop her 
head in at the door. Her maid took care of me. 
Excuse me from ever visiting Mrs. Yan Arsdale 
any more ! Never again, thank you ! ’ ’ 

Raymonde’s other friends, from whom she had 
chosen to be parted for three weeks, were by no 
means reconciled to the sacrifice that she was mak- 
ing. 

Lois, who had been clinging to her champion 
with passionate devotion up to the moment when 
the sentence of exile went into effect, was abso- 
lutely inconsolable, and astonished everybody — 
model of obedience that she was — by defiantly an- 
nouncing : 

“I ’ve a good mind to run away myself so I can 
get suspended too and stay over there with Ray. ’ ’ 
Then she went off to ask Miss Cleveland’s permis- 
sion to send Raymonde a little note each day. 

1 1 If I light a bonfire in the middle of the dining- 
room, don’t be surprised. I ’m desperate,” said 
President Lee. 

And Peter Pan mourned : 

“Oh, dear! I d-d-didn’t half tell Ray what a 
hero I think she is. Now I ’ll have to wait three 
whole weeks.” 

“Well, 1 won’t wait three weeks,” declared 


CAPTIVES 


293 


Kathleen. “I ’ll tell her to-day! Sure and I ’ll 
climb the honeysuckle vine and sing me sintiments 
through her prison windy.” 

“I ’ll climb with you !” vowed Tommy. “But I 
won’t stay singing cw^side. I ’ll go in through 
the window and jolly Ray and Maddie up. I ’ll 
stay there till Miss Cleveland catches me. Then 
she ’ll have to shut me up there with them — for 
disci -plyne.” 

“If it hadn’t been for you Will-o’-the-Wisps, 
Ray wouldn’t be in prison at all, or Madelon 
either,” flashed out Lee. 

Poor Tommy was utterly taken aback at this 
charge, and Georgette, who, with Sue, had joined 
the conference, exclaimed: 

“Dixie, you needn’t be a bear just because you 
feel bad about Ray. What on earth could a little 
innocent piece of nonsense like the Will-o’-the- 
Wisps have to do with their getting suspended?” 

“It had a lot to do with it,” returned Lee. 
“Madelon was a new girl. She ’d never been to 
boarding-school before. She didn’t know any- 
thing about it, but you all knew. You ought to 
have helped her keep up that splendid record she 
made at the start. It ’s a Netley law that the old 
girls are to help the new ones — and you know it 
as well as I do. But instead of helping her, you 
Will-o’-the-Wisps, with your old ‘ Emerald 
Estrella,’ egged her on to skylark at night and 
get into scrapes.” 


294 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“We did n’t egg her on!” began Kathleen. 

“Well, Terese did, any way. And yon girls let 
them both lead you. That was bad enough. You 
ought to have stood on your own feet. And this 
is the end of it. Madelon gets suspended and 
Raymonde too.” 

“But Tess and Maddie would have rehearsed 
their play by themselves just the same if we 
hadn’t joined in,” said Sue. 

“No, they wouldn’t,” Tommy contradicted. 
“They couldn’t have acted it without the Italian 
villain. Dixie, you ’re right. I have helped Mad- 
die on to get suspended. And I ’m going right 
straight to Miss Cleveland now to tell her it ’s part 
my fault, and I ought to he suspended too. I 
won’t give any of you girls away,” she assured 
her sister Will-o’-the-Wisps. “You can speak for 
yourselves. But I ’m going!” 

Pet thoughtfully patted her chest. 

“I think I feel a lump on my heart,” said she. 
“I reckon it ’s on my conscience really. Tom, 
I ’m going with you ! ’ ’ 

“So am I!” chimed in Kathleen. “I feel a 
lump on my heart, too. It ’s a bouncer. Come 
along, Will-o’-the-Wisps! Let’s own up to- 
gether, and make Miss Cleveland suspend us all 
in the Executive Mansion,” she added, her eyes 
sparkling at the prospect. 

Tommy and Pet applauded this happy inspira- 
tion, but Georgette argued : 


CAPTIVES 


295 


“If we tell, we ’ll only get Madelon into more 
trouble. She and Tess were the head Will-o’-the- 
Wisps, and they wrote the play together.” 

“We don’t need to say a word about them,” an- 
swered Tommy. “We need n’t say who wrote the 
play. We ’ll each of us just tell our own part of 
the scrape. Miss Cleveland won’t ask us to be 
telltales.” 

“Besides,” said Lee, “how do you know but 
Maddie ’ll want to own up herself, and yet be 
afraid to for fear of getting you all into trouble?” 

“I don’t see the use in telling about something 
we did so long ago,” Sue objected, pouting. 
“We ’ll never do it again, you know.” 

“We ’ll never feel comfy till we tell,” said 
Tommy. “Come on now, Will-o’-the-Wisps ! All 
in favor of owning up, signify it by saying, ‘Aye!’ 
If there are any contrary-minded, they ’re cow- 
ards, and I ’ve no use for ’em.” 

“Aye!” Pet and Kathleen responded heartily, 
and “Aye,” more faintly echoed Sue and Geor- 
gette. 

“All aboard for the Executive Mansion!” sang 
Tommy, and led the way to the principal’s house. 

“It was very brave of you to come and confess,” 
said Miss Cleveland at the close of the interview. 

‘ ‘ As you have been conscientious about telling me 
of your behavior, I will let you choose your own 
punishment, just as I let Raymonde choose hers.” 

Kathleen looked coaxing. 


296 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


“We ’d like best to be suspended in your house 
for three weeks, Miss Cleveland/’ said she. 

The principal smiled. 

“Indeed! But unfortunately, Madelon and 
Raymonde are occupying my only spare room. I 
should have to build a new wing to the ‘ Executive 
Mansion’ before I could accommodate the rest of 
you. No, girls; I ’m afraid you must choose 
something else.” 

“Let ’s ask Miss Merry to help us decide,” sug- 
gested Peter Pan. “She’ll be back to-morrow. 
Her brother ’s getting well, you know.” 

Miss Meredith returned to Netley Hall next day 
to find most of the Girls of Old Glory ashamed 
to look her in the face. The Penitent Squad, as 
Tommy named the repentant Will-o’-the-Wisps, 
came to her for counsel. 

“^hy,” said she, “you ’d better stop being 
false lights, like the will-o’-the-wisps, leading 
people away from the right path, and be stars in- 
stead — the stars of Old Glory, you know. Do you 
think you have been very good citizens lately!” 

“No. Precious poor ones!” answered Tommy. 

“I saw Madelon just now,” went on Miss Mere- 
dith. “What has been distressing her most of all 
is the thought that she destroyed the flag. She 
feels as if she had been a traitor to it. But I told 
her that burning it up unintentionally was not the 
worst dishonor that has been put upon it. Do 
you know what I mean!” 


CAPTIVES 


297 


“I think,’ ’ replied Kathleen, “it was dishonor- 
ing the flag worse to invite it to a patriotic party 
and then smash up the rules right before its face.” 

“I felt pretty cheap,” said Tommy, “when I 
saw Old Glory glaring at me over the attic door, 
when we were sneaking off to rehearse at night. 
1 say sneaks can’t be good citizens, and if you ’re 
a bad citizen you ’re no honor to the flag, and all 
your hurraying for the Stars and Stripes isn’t 
worth a cent!” 

“Yes,” agreed Miss Merry; “actions speak 
louder than words, and even than hurrahs. Now 
each one of you wishes to be an honor to Old 
Glory. You ’ve been citizens who have brought 
trouble to this small part of the United States. 
Now see if you can’t help some of your fellow- 
citizens here at Netley Hall. How is this for a 
punishment? Every day, while Ray and Madelon 
are suspended, let each of you take half of your 
recreation time to do something that will be a real 
help to some one else.” 

“To make up for all the b-b-bother we ’ve 
made?” asked Pet. 

Miss Merry’s suggestion appealed to Tommy’s 
imagination. “Let ’s each do the thing we abom- 
inate the most!” she exclaimed. “I’ll do the 
weeding around Miss Cleveland’s flower beds. 
Poor old Mike looks as if his back would break 
when he ’s grubbing around the garden. 1 think 
weeds are just as good as flowers, and there ’s no 


298 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

sense in pulling them up. But I ’ll do it just the 
same because I hate weeding. Then I ’ll get a 
chance to wink at Ray and Maddie, even if I 
mustn’t speak to them.” 

4 4 Weeding ’s bad for the hands,” said Sue, 
whose manicure case was an object of Tommy’s 
scorn. 4 4 Can’t 1 do some weeding, too?” 

44 Yes; you do the Old Glory Cottage flower 
beds,” replied Tommy. 

4 4 Darning ’s awful!” said Petronella, thought- 
fully. “I think I ’ll darn all the stockings at the 
Baby House and save their housemother the trou- 
ble. That ’ll make a lot of work. Their knees 
are something fearful.” 

44 I ’ll do the rest of the mending,” promised 
Kathleen. 44 I hate sewing worse than poison. I 
simply abhor it!” 

4 4 Dusting is the worst thing 1 know,” remarked 
Georgette. 44 You have to spend so much time lift- 
ing up the little ornaments. I think I ’ll dust for 
some one.” 

4 4 Fine ! ’ ’ exclaimed Miss Merry. 4 4 Suppose you 
keep Old Glory Cottage well dusted and save 
Annie that trouble.” 

4 4 Oh — oh!” groaned Georgette. 4 4 But we 
scared her so that night I suppose it ought to be 
made up to her some way. I ’ll do it.” 

4 4 But this kind of punishment isn’t half bad 
enough for us, when you think of all Ray and 
Maddie are having,” declared the zealous Tommy. 


CAPTIVES 299 

“I say we ought to stay in bounds all the time 
they ’re suspended/’ 

The members of the Penitent Squad began their 
term of hard labor the next afternoon, sacrificing 
much outdoor fun for the sake of proving them- 
selves helpful citizens. Tommy, armed with hoe 
and weeder, betook herself to the flower beds 
girdling the Executive Mansion. While on her 
knees before a tulip plot, grubbing and weeding, 
she saw Kaymonde and Madelon, with Miss Mere- 
dith between them, coming up the path to the 
door. The three had been for a ramble in the 
woods and were returning, laden with dogwood 
boughs in snowy bloom. 

Tommy dropped back on her heels and bran- 
dished her weeder in salute. 

4 4 Hello! I ’m the gardener’s new hired boy!” 

The girls gaily waved to her, but Miss Mere- 
dith, laughing, put a finger on her lips as a re- 
minder that conversation with the exiles was for- 
bidden. 

4 4 What ’s Tommy weeding the flower beds for?” 
asked Kaymonde, as they went indoors. 

4 4 An act of penance,” replied Miss Merry. 
4 4 Ask Miss Cleveland if you want to know more.” 

The ramble through the woods had followed a 
morning of school work under the direction of 
Miss Cleveland and Miss Meredith, the principal, 
as well as the cheery young English teacher, prov- 
ing a most delightful instructor. When lessons 


300 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


were over and the girls at luncheon in their ‘ ‘ dun- 
geon cell,” Madelon had suddenly exclaimed: 

“Ray, I treated you horribly last week, didn’t 
I? But I ’m not going to torment your life out 
any more. I promise I won’t fret and make you 
miserable this time. Here you are giving up a 
whole three weeks of freedom and fun just for 
horrid old no-good me! And the least I can do 
for you is to make it as happy for you as I can.” 

When evening came, and Miss Cleveland called 
the two into her parlor for a little chat, Madelon 
greeted her with a smile as bright as Raymonde’s. 
The girls’ questioning about Tommy and the 
flower beds brought the answer: 

“Tommy and several others of your class have 
had troubled consciences. And finally they told 
me that they had belonged to a band called the 
‘ Will-o ’-the-Wisps.’ ” 

Madelon started. 

“They used to steal away to the attic at night 
when they should have been asleep and rehearse a 
play,” Miss Cleveland continued. Then she told 
of the self-imposed penalties. 

“Did they tell you I helped write the play and 
I was one of the leaders of the Will-o ’-the- 
Wisps?” asked Madelon. 

“No; they never mentioned your name at all, 
nor Terese Delano’s, either. But this morning 
Annie came to me and told me of her encounter 
with the Will-o ’-the-Wisps one night, and said 


CAPTIVES 


301 


that Terese was one of them. Annie brought me 
some boxes of red-fire powder too. She was 
sweeping out Terese ’s closet to-day and said they 
fell ont of her shoe-bag. I sent for Terese this 
afternoon and made her tell me the whole truth. 
Madelon, you bravely shouldered the entire blame, 
but I know now the part that Terese played in the 
burning of the red fire.” 

“Then won’t something be done to her , when 
she was worse than Maddie 1 ’ 9 broke in Raymonde. 

“Yes — poor Terese,” was Miss Cleveland’s 
grave reply. 4 ‘ She is going home. ’ ’ 

It was indeed “poor Terese”! Every day that 
had passed since the night of the fire had only 
added to her stubborn determination not to con- 
fess. She had been aware from the first that her 
classmates despised her for her silence, but pun- 
ishment, the sure sequel to confession, would, she 
had realized more and more, reveal to the whole 
school her wrong-doing and her cowardly deser- 
tion of Madelon. The thought of such disgrace 
was more than her pride could endure. When at 
last, however, Miss Cleveland had forced the truth 
from her, and Terese had learned that she was to 
spend several days in her room and that her stand- 
ing in the class was to be greatly reduced, making 
promotion impossible, she was so broken down and 
miserable that she begged to be allowed to go 
home. Rather, she felt, would she face even her 
parents’ displeasure than the scorn of the whole 


302 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


school. Miss Cleveland agreed with her, and by 
the end of the week the unhappy girl’s father came 
to take her away. Poor Tessie Del had an addi- 
tional humiliation to suffer. She left Netley Hall 
carrying in her satchel ‘ ‘ Emerald Estrella . 9 9 Re- 
jected by the magazine to which she had sent it, the 
manuscript came back to her on the day of her 
departure with the consoling assurance that it was 
returned with thanks, but was unsuitable. 

“I ’m sorry for Tess,” said Madelon, after 
Terese had left. “It ’s partly my fault that she 
has to go away in disgrace. If I had n ’t given in 
to her it would n ’t have happened at all . 9 9 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 

T HE three weeks of discipline proved to 
be a time of alternately fair and cloudy 
weather. Though everything possible was done 
to make the life in Miss Cleveland’s home really 
happy and beneficial, Madelon was still subject to 
fits of depression and irritability. Yet she made 
a brave effort to conquer her dismal moods and 
be cheerful for Raymonde’s sake, and before the 
days of suspension were ended she announced: 

“I ’m really enjoying it over here and I just 
love Miss Cleveland! I love her almost as much 
as I do Miss Merry.” 

Ray’s sunny presence and irrepressible fun, 
Miss Meredith’s assurances that the other girls, 
instead of despising the burner of red fire and 
destroyer of the flag, declared themselves “just 
wild to see her again,” and the enthusiasm 
that both exiles felt in trying to reach the highest 
standard in lesson-marks, all contributed to this 
happy state of mind. But one thing still tor- 
mented Madelon : the belief that, through her own 
wilfulness, Kenneth Sterling was suffering dis- 
303 


304 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


grace at Beaufort. The same trouble weighed on 
Raymonde ’s soul. 

One day Ned came up to the Executive Mansion 
to pay his sister a call. At sight of him, poor, 
shamefaced Madelon fled from the piazza, but, the 
visit over, Raymonde brought her a piece of good 
news. Kenneth had not been cashiered; neither 
was his graduation to be hindered by his late 
breach of martial law. The sentence imposed 
upon him was lighter than anybody had dared to 
hope, being merely a nominal one given with a 
view to impressing on his fellow-students the im- 
portance of military discipline. 

As a matter of fact, — though this Raymonde 
did not know, — the summons to appear before the 
head of Beaufort, which Kenneth had found await- 
ing him on his return from Glenwood, had led to 
a frank and confidential explanation of the young 
cadet’s absence without leave. At the close of the 
interview, the principal of the school had told him, 
with a hearty handshake, that as a gentleman and 
a soldier he could not have acted otherwise. 

At last the weeks of suspension were over. One 
afternoon at the end of May, Madelon and Ray- 
monde recrossed the boundary-line that marked 
off the land of their exile, and returned to the 
colony of Netley girls. Ray walked with blithe 
heart and eager step, but, clasping her friend’s 
hand reassuringly, she found it icy cold. A sud- 
den dread of meeting her schoolmates made Made- 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 305 

Ion long to run back into the shelter of her late 
prison, but she was given no chance to retreat. 
As they passed over the border, there burst forth 
from behind a row of shrubs the Old Glory cheer. 
The next instant a line of heads popped up over 
the shrubbery, and from out the ambush their 
classmates came pouring. 

Lee, Lois, and the Penitent Squad led the van. 
Pet and Kathleen were waving their work-bags. 
Tommy brandished her hoe and weeder. Sue 
flourished a trowel and rake, and Georgette was 
flapping a dusting-cloth in each hand. Lois and 
Lee flew for Raymonde, and she for them. Peter 
Pan and Kathleen fell upon Madelon, hugging her 
with a fervor that drove her fears to the winds. 
Tommy, unable to reach either of the returned 
exiles, endeavored to force a way to them by claw- 
ing their captors with her weeder. Finally, the 
welcome over, the Girls of Old Glory began a 
triumphant march around the campus, with their 
long-lost sisters in the center of the band. 

Raymonde and Madelon had sorrowfully real- 
ized that the patriotic pageant could not be given 
on Memorial Day, since the suspension of William 
Penn and Pocahontas had prevented further prep- 
arations. Now came a glad surprise. “The Pa- 
triot’s Vision,” their jubilant friends told them, 
was to be acted at Commencement, with Miss 
Merry herself as Columbia. 

Commencement week arrived, and, thanks to the 


306 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


glorious summer weather, the pageant was given 
out-of-doors on the campus. On the day of the 
performance came another surprise, a special one 
for Ray. Her father, mother, and grandfather 
reached home that morning ahead of the appointed 
time, being resolved not to lose “The Patriot’s 
Vision.” 

In the afternoon, while the actors were putting 
the finishing touches to their costumes, Dr. 
Heathcote’s car stopped before Old Glory Cot- 
tage. At sight of it, out rushed William Penn, 
sprang upon the step, and was clasped in the 
arms of Mrs. Heathcote, whom the gray-coated 
Quaker embraced with lover-like affection. 

‘ 4 Oh, Mother ! Mother ! Y ou precious ! ’ ’ cried 
Ray. “Have you really come back to me at last? 
I couldn’t have lived another day without you.” 

The Quaker’s broad-brimmed hat fell off in the 
glad excitement, and almost under the wheels. 
While Dr. Heathcote was diving to rescue it, a 
dark-haired Indian maiden appeared in the door- 
way. She paused, as if checked by sudden fear, 
but her hesitation lasted only a moment. Ray’s 
mother, alighting, held out her arms, and Madelon 
flew into them. 

“Mrs. Heathcote! Darling Mrs. Heathcote! 
Do you really, truly love me after the way I be- 
haved?” 

Holding her fast, Mrs. Heathcote answered : 

“More than ever, since your trouble, dear.” 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 307 

The pageant proved a great success. Audience 
and actors agreed that the belated performance 
was a histrionic triumph. No red fire was burned 
at this outdoor matinee. Instead, a real fire 
crackled and blazed on the heap of stones over 
which the Indians’ kettle hung, and the Pocahon- 
tas scene was voted one of the finest of the play. 
But the Girls of Old Glory had scored a double 
triumph. They had raised toward the education 
of Louis Carrette more than half a hundred dol- 
lars. 

Netley Hall closed its doors for vacation-time. 
Lee’s mother, who had come to the north for a few 
weeks, took her daughter and her niece, Petronella, 
to the sea-shore. Tommy was carried off by rela- 
tives for a long visit. And Madelon? When 
Raymonde returned joyously to her home she 
brought her princess too. Mrs. Heathcote, whose 
motherly soul could never be satisfied without a 
houseful of 4 ‘ daughters,” had seen that the pros- 
pect of being separated for the whole vacation was 
not at all to the liking of either of the girls; so 
she had begged Mrs. Morgan to let Madelon pass 
the holiday months with her “ sister Ray,” under 
the Heathcotes ’ roof. This invitation Aunt Edith 
had gratefully accepted, remembering that the ex- 
citements of the previous summer at Bar Harbor 
had fostered the process of spoiling her wilful 
ward. 


308 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


The graduations at Huntwell Academy and 
Beaufort Military School followed the Netley 
Commencement, and to both of these the girls were 
formally invited. The Beaufort program was 
particularly thrilling, including, as it did, an “ex- 
hibition of horsemanship ’ ’ and “military exer- 
cises and parade.” But poor Madelon dreaded 
to meet either Ned or Kenneth after her late esca- 
pade, and she declared that some of the cadets 
must have found out the real cause of Lieutenant 
Sterling’s mysterious trip to Glenwood. Her shy- 
ness of Ned, however, was completely dispelled by 
his hearty greeting and genuine gladness at sight 
of her, when his sister brought her home. Ray- 
monde and her brother together won the day as 
to Beaufort, the former by refusing to attend the 
festivities there without her princess, and the lat- 
ter by assuring Madelon that Kenneth was not the 
kind of fellow even to mention her name to the 
other cadets. So the two girls, their heads in a 
whirl of happy excitement, went to both Com- 
mencements, and a glorious time they had at both 
senior dances, the first that Raymonde had ever 
attended outside of Netley Hall. 

When the festal evening at Beaufort was over, 
two radiant maidens, who had danced every dance 
and were still very bright-eyed and wide awake, 
were helped by Kenneth into Dr. Heathcote’s car, 
where Raymonde ’s mother was already ensconced. 

“I haven’t told you yet what I ’m going to do 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 309 

to-morrow,” said Ken, as they parted. “I ’m 
going to start west as soon as they ’ve fired the 
sunset gun.” 

“You are? What for?” cried Ray, and Made- 
Ion dropped her gauzy fan to the earth in her sur- 
prise. 

“I ’m going with Chas Lawton,” Kenneth ex- 
plained, as he restored the fan. “He ’s from 
Sacramento. We ’ll have a look at the Yosemite. 
Uncle Frank ’s giving me the trip. Some uncle, 
is n’t he?” 

The girls agreed that he certainly was “some 
uncle. ’ ’ 

“Shall you see San Francisco?” asked Made- 
Ion, eagerly. 

“I ’ll see everything I ’ve time for,” Kenneth 
answered* “But I have to be back again by 
August. I ’m booked for a cruise then, with some 
of the Beaufort fellows — on my uncle’s yacht. I 
want Doc along, too. Will you lend him, Mrs. 
Heathcote?” 

“If you won’t drown him,” replied Ned’s 
mother. 

“San Francisco makes me think of the flag 
quilt,” put in Raymonde. “It ’s all safe. I 
found it the other day right on a shelf where I was 
sure I looked for it before.” 

“Have you translated those Japanese words 
yet?” Madelon mischievously inquired of Ken- 
neth. 


310 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“If I don’t tell you what they mean before the 
summer ’s over,” he began, “I ’ll — ” 

“Hush! Don’t make rash vows,” Mrs. Heath- 
cote interrupted, laughing. And with farewells 
and good wishes to speed him on his journey, his 
guests took their departure. 

Kenneth and his classmate, “Chas Lawton,” 
started for the west. The vacation days flitted 
fast. Midsummer came. One afternoon the two 
girls, who had been reading high up in the 
branches of an apple-tree, descended to the earth 
and returned to the house to be met by Ned with 
the announcement, “Here ’s a package for you, 
Madelon.” 

On the hall settee stood a box directed to “Miss 
D’Arcy, care Dr. Heathcote.” 

“It must be from Aunt Edith,” said Madelon. 
“But how funny that the address is type-written! 
Did it come by express?” 

“No,” replied Ned. “I was down at the sta- 
tion, and the baggage-man gave it to me. He said 
when the down train passed this morning, a guard 
handed it to him and told him a lady in his car 
wanted it delivered at Dr. Heathcote ’s.” 

“Well, of all the queer things!” cried Madelon. 
“I never heard of anything so funny in my life. 
That doesn’t sound like Aunt Edith. I wonder 
who the lady was. Give me a knife or a scissors ! 
I must see what ’s in it. ’ ’ 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 311 

“A bomb, most likely,’ ’ said Ned, cheerfully, as 
he cut the string. And indeed so strange was the 
mode in which the package had been delivered that 
the girls involuntarily started back when he 
warned them: 

* ‘ Look out ! It ’s going off ! ” 

No explosion followed as the mysterious parcel 
was unwrapped, but excitement increased when it 
proved to contain two wooden boxes, one large 
and flat, the other much smaller, but deep. The 
smaller box was on top in a nest of excelsior. 

“ Mercy me! How heavy it is!” exclaimed 
Madelon, as she lifted it. “I hope it ’s not really 
a bomb. ’ ’ 

Boldly she opened it, and found inside a strange- 
looking stone, honey-combed with indentations and 
tiny cavities. Painted on its surface were two 
black disks encircled with white rings, and be- 
tween them was a black and white capital “A.” 



“The ‘A’ and the wheels!” fairly screamed 
Raymonde. 

Madelon gasped: 

‘ ‘ My mystic sign ! ’ ’ 

Here indeed was a new mystery — a stone bear- 
ing the very symbol that adorned the central ban- 
ner in the flag quilt ! Madelon snatched it up and, 


312 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


turning it over, found on the other side, painted 
in red letters, the words: ‘ i From my Northern 
Island of the Southern Cross.” 

“ ‘My Northern Island of the Southern 
Cross !’ ” the wondering girl repeated. 
“Where’s that? Doesn’t it sound mysterious! 
Did you ever hear of an island of the Southern 
Cross?” 

“The only Southern Cross I ever heard of is in 
the sky,” said Ned, “and you could n’t see it from 
any island in the north.” 

“It must be all a joke — the whole thing!” de- 
clared Madelon, yet she could not help being 
highly excited over the enigma. 

“Hurry up and see what ’s in the other box,” 
urged Raymonde. 

Madelon brought out the second box — the large, 
flat one. They found in it an oil painting. The 
picture showed an expanse of heaving ocean re- 
flecting the tints of the sky where clouds and sun- 
shine, lowering gray and glimpse of blue, spoke 
of veering winds and fitful weather. In the fore- 
ground was a large rock, and, poising upon it as 
airily as a bird, stood a young girl. Overhead 
the sea-gulls hovered and circled, and the maiden, 
her face upturned and her arms lifted, looked 
ready to spring lightly from the rock and join the 
sea-birds in their flight. One could almost see the 
fluttering of her dress and the tossing of her dark 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 313 

hair as it floated in the wind; something in her 
look and poise made her appear akin to the wild 
gulls winging above her like untamed spirits of 
the storm. 

“Oh, isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it lovely?” ex- 
claimed Madelon, lifting the picture out. 

“That girl on the rock looks just like you!” 
Raymonde surprised her by saying. 

“She doesn’t! She’s miles prettier than I 
am. ’ ’ 

“Oh, not so many miles prettier,” observed 
Ned, slyly, for Madelon, her face all lighted up 
with eagerness, would have made a most winsome 
subject for a picture. 

“This can’t be a joke ! It ’s too beautiful for a 
joke,” she declared, studying the painting. 

“Hello! What ’s that on the back of it?” said 
Ned, catching a glimpse of the other side of the 
picture, as she held it up. 

Madelon turned it over and had a fresh shock 
of surprise. 

“Your sign again and a poem too!” cried Ray- 
monde. 

Sure enough! On the back of the picture they 
found a pen-and-ink sketch of the “A” and the 
wheels, and beneath this several stanzas written 
in a girlish hand. 

‘ i Read it ! Read it !” begged Ray, and Madelon 
read aloud: 


314 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“The Song op the Sea-gull Queen 

“The Queen of the Sea-gulls, I, 

My vassals, they circle and fly 
Over the seas, racing the breeze, 

And call me with mewing cry. 

“I summon them — wild, free things, 

I mount aloft on their wings. 

Through the skies we go. To the ships below, 

The queen her warning brings. 

“0 helmsman, steer with care, 

Of the hidden reef beware ! 

I T1 show you the way to a peaceful bay, 

The gate to my kingdom fair ; 

“To my Northern Island lone, 

Where I Ve set my rocky throne, 

And a cavern hides from the creeping tides 
The royal treasure I own. 

“The Queen of the Sea-gulls, I, 

Free as my birds, and shy. 

Poising, I stand on the rim of the land, 

Then wing me away to the sky.” 

Wondering and thoughtful, Madelon studied 
again the picture of the girl on the rock. 

“The Queen of the Sea-gulls ! That ’s what she 
is! And she ’s the Queen of the Northern Island, 
too ! It must be the Northern Island of the South- 
ern Cross, where this queer stone came from. 
And the ‘A* and the wheels, my mystic sign, it 
must be her sign too. Oh, what does it all mean? 
Is she a real girl with a real island ?” 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 315 

i i Oh, she must be real ! She must be ! ’ ’ insisted 
Baymonde. 

‘ 4 That girl in the picture looks real enough,” 
agreed Ned. 

“But what I want to know is, who sent it to 
me,” said Madelon. 

“Maybe it was Valerie,” Baymonde suggested. 
“She ’s seen your quilt, hasn’t she? Maybe she 
put the signs on the picture and the stone just for 
fun, and had the guard on the train leave the 
package for you — to puzzle you.” 

Madelon laughed a bit scornfully. 

“Gracious, no! Valerie ’d never take that 
much trouble for anybody!” 

“Then maybe your Aunt Edith did send it,” 
said Bay. “She might have asked a friend who 
was coming this way to leave it for you. Perhaps 
she found these things at Bar Harbor. That ’s 
on a northern island. Maybe your Queen of the 
Sea-gulls lives there.” 

“Stupid old Mount Desert Island with all the 
fashionables on it? Not much!” contemptuously 
returned Madelon. “Nobody ever called that the 
‘Island of the Southern Cross’! No indeed! My 
Queen of the Sea-gulls lives on a great deal more 
romantic island. ‘My Northern Island lone,’ she 
says. Does that sound like Bar Harbor?” 

Baymonde had to admit that it did not. 

“Dixie and Pet couldn’t have sent it, could 
they? Or Tommy?” questioned Madelon. 


316 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“No; Dixie and Pet are in New Jersey, and 
Tommy ’s in Pennsylvania/’ objected Ray. 
“And it was the down train that brought your 
package. That comes from up north, does n ’t it, 
Ned?” 

“Yes.” 

“And certainly Kenneth didn’t send it,” Ray 
went on, “as he ’s out in California yet. Maybe 
we ’ll find a card or something to show who sent 
it.” She began to burrow in the excelsior. 

4 4 Here you are ! ’ ’ she suddenly exclaimed, pulling 
out an envelope. 

Madelon opened it and drew out — a birthday 
card. It showed a fairy ship with silver sails, 
bearing, no doubt, a cargo of birthday gifts, as it 
sailed on a sunlit sea. A pretty little rhyme of 
congratulation accompanied the picture of the 
ship. Beneath it some one had written in print, 
“Best wishes for your birthday.” That was all. 
No name was affixed to show who was the giver of 
the card, the picture, and the stone. 

“Best wishes for my birthday!” cried mystified 
Madelon. “But that ’s not till the nineteenth of 
August. I mean my make-believe birthday, the 
day I came to Aunt Edith, you know. Nobody 
knows when my real birthday comes.” 

“Maybe somebody does know,” said Ned. 
“I ’ve got a hunch that your real birthday ’s to- 
day, the twelfth of July. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Madelon ! ’ ’ exclaimed his sister. 4 4 Maybe the 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 317 

person who sent you this knows who you really 
are. ’ ’ 

“Oh, Ray, it couldn’t he so! Could it, Ned?” 

Ned looked unusually serious. 

“Why not? Anything ’s possible.” 

“Anyhow it ’s the oddest thing I ever heard 
of,” declared Madelon. “And unless Aunt Edith 
writes and says she sent the package ahead of 
time for my birthday that is n’t my real birthday, 
I ’m just going to believe there ’s a real Queen of 
the Sea-gulls, and she knows who I am, and she 
sent me these things herself.” 

Imagination, once aroused, soared as if on sea- 
gull wings. Raymonde gave a little skip of excite- 
ment and clapped her hands. 

“Oh, Maddie! Of course the Queen of the Sea- 
gulls is on the island now, and knows what your 
sign means and can tell you everything you want 
to find out. And I ’m positive she knows to-day ’s 
your birthday, and she ’s sent you the stone and 
the picture for birthday presents. Oh, dear! 
where can her island be?” 

“Search me! There ’s no Northern Island of 
the Southern Cross in 6 The Yachtsman’s Guide,’ 
anyhow,” said her brother, who had been study- 
ing that manual in preparation for his cruise with 
Kenneth. “But, look here, Madelon, Toots and 
I are going to sail up the coast in August, you 
know. It ’s up to us to raise your Northern Is- 
land.” 


318 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Earnestly and eagerly Madelon looked at him. 

“Do yon really mean you will try to find it ? 
You ’re not just saying it for fun?” 

“Never was more solemn in my life,” Ned pro- 
tested. “Of course I ’m only one of the crew. 
Toots is cap’n of the sloop, but he ’ll be game.” 

“There are heaps of islands along the Maine 
coast,” said Ray. “You really might discover 
Maddie’s, if you keep on far enough.” 

“We ’ll diskiver it if we have to leave the yacht 
embedded in Arctic ice, and dog-sledge it all 
around the coast of Greenland.” 

Just as Ned had thus pledged himself, in came 
Dr. Heathcote. “Why, this is lava,” he told 
them, when they showed him the stone. 

“If your island grows lava, it must be vol- 
canic, ’ ’ declared Ned. “No use hunting volcanoes 
along the New England coast. Dad, are n’t there 
any extinct volcanoes up in Greenland? Say, the 
Queen of the Sea-gulls must he the belle of the 
Eskimos!” 

‘ ‘ Does my beautiful Queen of the Sea-gulls look 
like a fat, brown Eskimo?” Madelon demanded 
with scorn. 

“I ’m going for the atlas,” said Raymonde. 
She brought the ponderous volume, but found that 
the one terrestrial Southern Cross was only a 
town in Australia. 

“Stop looking all over the world, Ray,” said 
Madelon. * ‘ I won ’t believe my island ’s anywhere 


THE QUEEN OF THE SEA-GULLS 319 

but right up north on the Atlantic coast, where 
Ned and Kenneth can find it.” 

‘ 4 Good!” said Dr. Heathcote. * * Always look 
on the hopeful side, also on your own side of the 
ocean. 9 ’ 

Madelon ’s letter to her aunt brought the an- 
swer that Mrs. Morgan knew nothing at all of the 
package, nor of any Island of the Southern Cross. 

‘ ‘ Then I ’m sure my Queen of the Sea-gulls sent 
me the presents,” said Madelon, half in play, but 
also half in earnest. 

Ray’s father, overhearing her, smiled at her as 
tenderly as if she were his own little daughter. 

“Dr. Heathcote,” — Madelon looked up wist- 
fully into his face, — “is it silly to let myself be- 
lieve that we may really find my island, and that 
there ’ll be somebody there who can tell me about 
myself and all the things I want so much to 
know?” 

“Would you like to believe it?” he asked. 

“Oh, indeed I would!” 

“Go ahead, then, and believe it as hard as you 
can,” said he. “And I ’ll believe it, too.” 


CHAPTER XX 


NORTHWARD HO ! 

M ADELON having been found in San Fran- 
cisco with her flag quilt and its mystic sign, 
the idea suggested itself to the girls’ romantic 
imaginations that, although the gifts had come via 
New England, the kingdom of the sea-gull queen 
might, after all, lie off the Pacific coast instead of 
the Atlantic. Accordingly, a note was despatched 
to Kenneth, informing him of the quest on which 
he and Ned were desired to embark, and begging 
him, while he was in the region of the Golden 
Gate, to make careful inquiries regarding all is- 
lands anywhere near the western seaboard. An 
answer came back with military promptness : 

General Raymonde Heathcote, U. S. A. 

Dear General: 

Squadron of airplanes scouting daily for island. Re- 
port many sea-gulls sighted, but no Southern Crosses. 
Awaiting further orders, 

Your obedient servant, 

K. Sterling. 

Meanwhile, with a young girl’s shyness and 
reticence and dreading any word that might dash 
320 


NORTHWARD HO! 


321 


a precious hope dawning in her heart, Madelon 
kept secret even from Raymonde her deepest long- 
ings and the brightest dreams and fancies that she 
had woven about her Northern Island of the South- 
ern Cross. 

August came. Lee’s mother went south again, 
and Dixie and Pet returned to Heathcote Light- 
house. Tommy, her elderly relatives having had 
as much of that athletic and enterprising young 
person as their nerves could stand, also came back 
jubilantly to her ‘ ‘ second home. ’ ’ So Mrs. Heath- 
cote had all five daughters under her wing once 
more. By this time Kenneth, his visit to Califor- 
nia over, was cruising on the yacht Sea-drift up 
the Maine coast, with Ned as first mate. One day 
Madelon received a card from Ned, announcing: 

Volcanic Island discovered in state of violent erup- 
tion. Toots up to his ankles in boiling lava. He went 
in head first like the Irishman. 

Kenneth must have recovered quickly from the 
effects of being cooked in lava, for next came a 
card from him to his general. It was headed: 
“Off coast Volcanic Island.” And it said: 

No news from Doc for the last twelve hours. He 
camped too far down the crater last night. Can wait 
no longer, so am sailing southward. 

A day or two after the arrival of this alarming 
message, Major Heathcote sent an expeditionary 


322 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


force into Canadian waters. The girls regarded 
Raymonde’s grandfather as an all-the-y ear-round 
Santa Claus, who, when he wasn’t giving you 
presents, was giving you good times. He now 
capped the climax by deciding that these patriotic 
lasses would feel their love of flag and country 
burning all the stronger if they could be exiled 
for a while in foreign parts ; so, by way of giving 
them a delightful treat, he sent them under Mrs. 
Heathcote ’s charge up to the Bay of Fundy. The 
first night that any of the girls but Madelon had 
ever spent under the British flag was passed on 
Campobello, verdant and beautiful, and an island, 
too, but, alas, not the Northern Island of the 
Southern Cross. 

Next morning, after breakfast, the patriotic five 
ran down to the water ’s edge to gaze back at ‘ ‘ the 
States,” as they heard their mother country 
called. Only a narrow strip of blue parted the 
visitors on Campobello from their native land. 
Out in the harbor tall-masted sailing vessels were 
gliding by or swinging at anchor, busy little tug- 
boats darted to and fro, and here and there a 
graceful yacht came dancing over the gleaming 
water, like a mammoth white butterfly. 

When they returned to the hotel, they found 
Mrs. Heathcote on the piazza, in conversation with 
a sun-burned stranger who bore an anchor tat- 
tooed on his hand. A sailor, every inch of him ! 

“ Girls,” said she, ‘ 4 this is Captain Cunningly. 


NORTHWARD HO! 323 

He is going to take us for a cruise in his motor- 
boat this morning. ,, 

“I thought I ’d find somebody wanting to take 
a turn on the bay if I came up to the hotel, ’ ’ said 
Captain Jim Cunningly. “And here you be! I 
struck it jest right.” 

At nine o’clock to the minute, Captain Jim’s 
enthusiastic party appeared on the wharf beside 
which the motor-boat, Polly, flying the Canadian 
colors, rocked impatiently on the little waves. 

“I never seen ladies on time before!” was the 
captain’s approving comment, as he politely 
helped his guests aboard. 

“Let ’s sit on the cabin roof,” Tommy pro- 
posed, and the five girls scrambled out of the cock- 
pit. 

“Now for fun and Fundy!” sang Raymonde, 
when, after a shriek from the whistle, the gasolene 
motor began its chug-chug, and the boat swung 
out into the channel. 

The girls waved good-by to Campobello and 
turned their gaze toward her sister island, Lubeck. 
Suddenly an outburst of song, more uproarious 
than musical, filled their astounded ears and 
brought them scrambling to their feet. Manly 
voices were thundering out the nautical song 
about “The Bay of Biscay — 0!” Behold, in 
the Polly's cockpit, standing arrayed in 
yachting garb, Ned Heathcote and Kenneth 
Sterling ! 


324 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


The astonished maidens shrieked in high so- 
prano. Then Raymonde made one wild plunge 
down from the cabin roof and landed in the arms 
of her brother. Down fluttered the other girls, 
as the two young yachtsmen gave them a helping 
hand, and the duet changed to a general chorus of 
laughter in which Mrs. Heathcote joined as mer- 
rily as if she were fifteen, and Captain Jim came 
in with a delighted, ‘ ‘ Haw, haw ! 9 9 

“ Where did you come from?” the girls de- 
manded. 

“Out of Davy Jones’s locker,” answered Ned, 
pointing to the cabin door. 

“Do you mean to say you two wretches were 
hiding in that cabin all the time?” cried Ray- 
monde. “But what are you doing here, around 
Campobello? And how did you get on board our 
motor-boat ? 9 9 

“Pardon me,” replied Kenneth, “but it ’s our 
motor-boat. We ’ve hired her for the morning. 
How did you get aboard?” 

“We hired her for the morning, too!” 

When asked how they came to be cruising off 
Campobello, the stowaways merely retorted, 
“How do you girls come to be?” 

“Grandfather sent us up here to see the Bay 
of Fundy,” answered Ray. “Isn't he an old 
darling? But how did you find out we were com- 
ing? Did he write you or— Mother, did youV y 
Placing her hands on Mrs. Heathcote’s shoulders, 


NORTHWARD HO! 


325 


Raymonde looked with laughing reproach into her 
face. “Was my patriot Mother in a plot against 
the Old Glory Girls ?” 

“I merely answered a couple of letters marked 
‘strictly private, ’ ” Mrs. Heathcote replied de- 
murely. 

“You naughty, tricksy mischief of a Mammy!’’ 
laughed Raymonde. “Were you surprised or not 
when Ned and Kenneth popped out of Davy 
Jones’s locker and began to roarV ’ 

“I was not so startled as I might have been,” 
confessed the patriot mother. ‘ ‘ The boys paid me 
a call yesterday evening after all you girls had 
gone up-stairs.” 

“Mrs. Heathcote,” Madelon put in, “did Cap- 
tain Cunningly just happen to find a party to go 
in his motor-boat, or did somebody send him to 
you?” 

A chuckle was heard from the seaman at the 
wheel. 

“They see through us!” said he. 

“But where ’s your yacht?” Tommy eagerly 
inquired of the two young navigators. 

“She lies,” Kenneth answered, “forty-five de- 
grees north of the equator and between sixty-six 
and sixty-seven west of Greenwich. If you wish 
to know the exact number of minutes and seconds, 
I can easily calculate — ” 

“Bother the equator and Greenwich!” inter- 
rupted his impatient general. “We don’t want 


326 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


the minutes and seconds. We want to know 
where — the — Sea-drift — is. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘You can’t see her from here. She ’s too far 
up Fundy. We ’ll take you to see her, though.” 

A visit to the Sea-drift turned out to be the real 
object of the morning’s excursion, and cheers and 
clapping greeted this news. 

As the Polly sped on her way, Madelon turned 
to Kenneth. ‘‘You didn’t really find my North- 
ern Island, did you?” 

“Why,” he exclaimed, “didn’t you get our 
cards?” 

“Yes, but you don’t suppose we swallowed that 
nonsense, do you ? ’ ’ 

“But, sober earnest,” said Raymonde, “you 
didn’t really find anything that might be Made- 
Ion’s island?” 

“We ’ve found plenty of islands,” answered 
Kenneth. “We ’ll show you some to-day. But 
we haven’t seen any Southern Crosses.” 

“Why don’t you ask Captain Cunningly if he 
ever saw your island or heard of it?” Lee sug- 
gested, and Madelon questioned their skipper. 

The bronzed seaman frowned as if making a 
mighty effort to recollect. 

“I don’t know of no island of that name,” he 
replied at last, “and when I was before the mast, 
I sailed as far north as Greenland, and east as far 
as Gibraltar arid Africa.” 

Never mind ! Island or no island, it was enough 


NORTHWARD HO! 


327 


simply to cruise for pleasure on this beautiful 
August morning, sky and water both of a clear, 
light, northern blue, and a wealth of sunbeam- 
gold scattered on the gentle waves. 

‘ ‘ Tell us about your sail up the coast,’ ’ urged 
Raymonde, and as they skimmed out from Passa- 
maquoddy Bay into the great parent Bay of 
Fundy, Captain Kenneth of the Sea-drift and Ned, 
his mate, described their voyage, which had been 
a squally one, and therefore all the more delight- 
ful. 

The three Beaufort fellows who had shipped 
with them had by this time abandoned the salt 
water for the Maine lakes, and the yacht, her com- 
pany reduced to captain, mate, and boatman, had 
been anchored last night off Campobello, that the 
conspirators might call on their accomplice, Mrs. 
Heathcote. At sunrise they had fled to avoid dis- 
covery. Next they had hired the Polly and, leav- 
ing the Sea-drift in charge of their trusty boat- 
man, had transferred themselves to the motor- 
craft. 

“Now tell us about your trip out West, and all 
you did and everything you saw, ’ ’ Kenneth ’s gen- 
eral commanded. 

‘ ‘ That ’s a big order, ’ ’ Kenneth replied, but he 
contrived to excite hot envy in the hearts of his 
audience, by recounting his experiences in the 
Yosemite. 

“You were in San Francisco, too, weren’t 


328 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


you?” said Madelon, softly, when the others had 
turned to admire the view again. “You were 
where the earthquake was?” 

“Yes. I went over the whole ground where 
some of the worst damage was done. You 
wouldn’t think now that they’d had an earth- 
quake and a fire out there — ever! But I talked 
with people who ’d lived through it all, and I tell 
you they ’ll never forget it ! So I got the picture 
of it pretty well in my mind. I could almost see 
it and feel it. And I don’t think I ’ll ever forget 
it, either.” 

There was an intensity about Kenneth’s look 
and in his voice that reminded Madelon how his 
expression had almost startled her on that win- 
ter’s day when they had studied her flag quilt 
together and she had told him all she knew of her 
own strange history. 

Kenneth now took a turn at the wheel, and the 
captain of the Polly , like a true old salt, spun 
yarn after yarn for the girls’ benefit. 

“I don’t wonder boys run away to sea,” 
sighed Tommy. “I’d love to be shipwrecked! 
Wouldn’t you, girls?” 

“Wouldn’t I, though!” exclaimed Ray. “I ’m 
crazy for an adventure.” 

“I wish something would happen this morn- 
ing,” said Madelon. “Something exciting and 
just scary enough. ’ ’ 

Presently something did happen. They be- 


NORTHWARD HO! 


329 


came suddenly aware that the chug -chug of 
the Polly’s engine had ceased. The motor-boat 
was no longer shooting ahead, but slackening 
speed. 

“Jimmy!” they heard Kenneth exclaim. 
“What ’s up now!” 

“What ’s the matter!” came in chorus from 
the girls. 

“The motor ’s stopped,” answered Ned. 

“She don’t like no hand but mine at the wheel,” 
remarked the Polly’s owner. 

He joined Kenneth in examining the engine, and 
at the end of their investigation each seemed to be 
in a bad humor with the other. 

“Well, she ’s quit work,” was Captain Cun- 
ningly ’s verdict. “It ’s a queer thing,” he 
grumbled, “that when I hire out to young fellows 
from the city, if I don’t keep my eye on ’em, 
the Polly gen’erly has to go into dry-dock for re- 
pairs. I was fool enough to let that youngster 
try his hand, and here we are, stuck ! Serves me 
right for spinning yarns, ’stead of attending to 
duty.” 

Kenneth, on his part, growled that this old tub 
was the best he could hire for the occasion, but if 
the blooming thing could n ’t work any better than 
that, he ’d advise the captain to sell her for old 
junk and get a boat with some pep to it. 

“Well, what ’s going to happen to us!” Mrs. 
Heathcote asked, tactfully changing the subject. 


330 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


1 4 Don’t worry, Mother,” said Ned. “We ’ll 
get the engine started again after a while.” 

But the Polly was now drifting helplessly, 
rocked by small waves and making no headway 
upon her course to meet the Sea-drift. 

“Who were the girls pining for shipwrecks?” 
inquired Mrs. Heathcote. “Madelon, you were 
just sighing for something to happen. Next time 
beware of making rash wishes.” 

“I didn’t know my wish was coming true so 
quick,” said Madelon, penitently. 

To the impatient girls it began to look as if the 
lazy Polly had gone on strike for the rest of the 
summer. Kenneth, as chief organizer of the ex- 
pedition, was profuse in his apologies for this an- 
noying delay, and he assured his guests that the 
motor-boat would move on again some time. But 
the frown on his forehead did not relax, and the 
only person absolutely serene in the face of this 
adversity was Ned. Luxuriously extending him- 
self on the cabin roof, he drawled in perfect con- 
tentment : 

“Why, you couldn’t have anything better than 
this. You ’re seeing Fundy and the coast of New 
Brunswick, and you ’re on the water. What more 
do you want ? ’ ’ 

The dissatisfied damsels informed him that they 
wanted a great deal more, especially a view of the 
Sea-drift. 

“But if the Polly ’s out of order and can’t start 


NORTHWARD HO! 


331 


up again, and the captain can’t fix her, what will 
happen?” Madelon questioned in growing dismay. 
4 ‘ Shall we have to stay floating up and down all 
day and all night ? ’ ’ 

“Why, you ’ll like that, won’t you?” said Ned. 
“There ’ll be a dandy moon.” 

Madelon tossed her head. 

“I ’ve seen the moon till I ’m sick and tired of 
her. But I ’ve never seen the Sea-drift , and I ’ll 
lose my chance if the old Polly doesn’t behave 
herself. ’ ’ 

“I read a story where some people lost their 
oars and drifted out to sea,” remarked Pet. 
“You could drift from here right out into the 
ocean, couldn’t you?” 

“We ’re drifting that way now,” croaked Ned, 
basking with his cap over his eyes. 

“Ned, don’t be such a tease,” said his mother. 
“You ’ll have the girls really frightened.” 

The valiant maidens laughed at the notion of 
being afraid, Raymonde, Madelon, and Tommy 
recklessly declaring that they hoped they would 
drift out to sea, though Pet looked as if the story 
of the lost oars oppressed her soul. 

“The Polly won’t drift very far,” said Ken- 
neth, soothingly. “We ’ll make signals of dis- 
tress, though, and hail the first boat that flies the 
Stars and Stripes. I ’ve done with the Britishers. 
Any signal-flags aboard, Cap’n?” 

“No, sir. When 7 run the Polly , we don’t need 


332 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

no distress signals/ ’ tartly replied the owner of 
the launch. 

Lee thought that the girls ’ sweaters, white with 
the blue N of Netley, would make good signals, and 
her suggestion was adopted. 

Ned bestirred himself, and the two yachtsmen 
gave the girls a lesson in wigwagging, which made 
them feel so brave and sailor-like that Pet, with 
rising spirits, declared : 

“This is the fun part of Fundy. I think being 
adrift is j-j-jolly good sport.” 

Kenneth looked penitent, however. “Will you 
ever ship with me again ?” he ruefully asked his 
guests. 

“Of course we will!” graciously answered his 
general. “We know it wasn’t your fault.” 

“Look! Oh, look!” screamed Madelon, before 
he could reply. “There ’s a sail!” 

To the northward a small promontory jutted 
out into the water, and around it a giant white 
wing came flitting. 

“A sail! A sail!” The others took up the 
cry, and a ringing cheer arose. The white wing, 
approaching, unfolded into two. “A sloop!” 
Kenneth pronounced it, holding the field-glass to 
his eyes. 

Nearer and nearer the sloop was speeding, and 
a beautiful thing she seemed, a snowy-pinioned 
messenger of relief. 


NORTHWARD HO! 333 

“ Wigwag! Wigwag some more! ,, cried Ray- 
monde. “Ken, make them take us aboard. ” 

Frantically the girls waved their sweaters. 
The Polly blew her whistle. Then, “Chug-chug!” 
her motor also suddenly made its voice heard. 
“ Chug -chug -chug !” The disabled launch turned 
and shot forward to meet the advancing sloop. 

“She ’s going!” shrieked the girls. 

“How did she start up? What did you do to 
her?” asked Raymonde. 

Kenneth, at the wheel once more, looked mildly 
surprised at the question. 

“Why, General, I ’m only obeying your orders 
to make the sloop take us aboard. 

Mine not to make reply, 

Mine not to reason why, 

Mine but to — ” 

“Kenneth!” Mrs. Heathcote interrupted, 
laughter in her eyes, “please kindly explain how 
that engine could break down and then suddenly 
start up again without any mending.” 

“I will proceed to demonstrate,” Kenneth an- 
swered solemly. “The phenomenon commenced 
while you were all paying more attention to the 
captain than to me. The cause of the accident 
was this ” He threw off the switch and turned 
off the gasolene cock. “The effect was — ” Sud- 
den silence on the part of the engine finished his 


334 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


explanation for him. “The motor started up 
again because I did this.” He turned on the 
power once more, and as the chug-chug recom- 
menced, Captain Cunningly, no longer grim and 
sarcastic, burst into his genial “haw! haw!” 

“Girls!” hallooed Ned. “How do you pro- 
nounce s-t-w, n-g-a, g-a-i, nf” 

Tommy groaned out : 

“Stung again!” and threw her sweater at his 
head. 

“It was all a trick!” cried Raymonde, in dis- 
gust. “The engine didn’t break down at all. 
Ken just stopped it on purpose.” 

The truth had dawned on the girls at last. 

Sternly they faced the author of the practical 
joke and his accomplice, Ned, and hurled at 
them such scathing epithets as “Frauds!” 
“Wretches!” “Villains!” and “Worse than 
pirates!” 

“We see ourselves ever shipping with you 
again, Mr. Kenneth Sterling!” said Ray. 

“Or with you, either, Mr. Edward Heathcote!” 
added Madelon. 

“Well, I like that! There’s gratitude for 
you!” returned Kenneth, in a deeply injured tone. 
“Didn’t I hear you asking for shipwrecks and 
adventures? So we laid ourselves out to please 
you, and here ’s what we get for it. You call us 
frauds and villains. ’ ’ 

“And you are” put in Madelon. 


NORTHWARD HO! 


335 


Lee turned to the proprietor of the Polly . 

“But Captain Cunningly ,’ 9 said she, “you acted 
so mad, as if you thought he really had hurt the 
engine. Were you honestly angry or did you 
know it was a trick ? ’ ’ 

The captain screwed up one eye with an air of 
extreme slyness. 

“I know there ’s a saying, ‘Boys will be boys,’ ” 
he chuckled. 

“Boys will be frauds , they ought to say,” be- 
gan Raymonde. Then she uttered a little scream 
of surprise, for the Polly was suddenly changing 
her course and beginning to run away from the 
sloop. 

“Heading for the States,” Kenneth answered 
grimly, when they asked the reason why. “No 
use going on. You ’d be calling the Sea-drift a 
fraud, next!” 

“That ’s what you get for scolding him,” said 
Ned. “The worm will turn, you know, when you 
step on him. And he ’s turned.” 

“Oh, dear! We promise not to call the Sea- 
drift a fraud, nor you, either, Kqn, — though 
you ’re a big one, ” apologized Raymonde. Vainly 
the girls implored their “honored and respected 
Captain Sterling” to have pity on them and for- 
givingly take them to his own yacht. 

“Mrs. Heathcote, you haven’t called him 
names,” said Madelon. “Maybe he 11 listen to 
you 


336 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


‘ * Captain Sterling,’ ’ said Mrs. Heatbcote, with 
a gracious smile, “you know I place the most per- 
fect confidence in you, for I can rely on you not to 
play a trick without giving me a hint first that 
something may happen, — so that I shall not be too 
much alarmed. Will you do me the favor of tak- 
ing me to the Sea-drift?” 

“With the greatest pleasure,” he responded, 
and headed the Polly northward once more. 

“That boat ’s answering us! What ’s it say- 
ing?” asked Lee, watching the oncoming sloop, 
which was bearing down upon the launch. 

The vessel that they had besought by signs to 
rescue them, was manned by two seamen. The 
one in the bow had evidently understood the wig- 
wagging from the Polly , for he was replying with 
a swift display of signal-flags. 

“He says he ’ll take us aboard,” Ned inter- 
preted. 

“You ’ll have to tell him it was all April Fool,” 
said his sister. 

The friendly sloop was soon so close that they 
could make out the design on the gay, little, swal- 
low-tailed burgee flying saucily from her mast- 
head. An ideal pleasure-craft she looked, white 
as the sea-foam, swift, graceful, perfect! On she 
came dancing, and from her peak floated, not the 
Union Jack, but the Stars and Stripes. 

The Canadian Polly seemed unwilling to yield 
up her passengers to the Yankee. As if deter- 


NORTHWARD HO! 


337 


mined to pass the sloop, she chugged ahead stub- 
bornly till the girls could read the name on the 
stern of the yacht. A peal of laughter rang out 
from the guests aboard the launch, and once again 
Kenneth and Ned heard themselves called frauds. 
The beautiful white pleasure-craft was the Sea- 
drift. 

Dan Homan, the boatman, stood ready to resign 
command of the yacht to Kenneth, as captain. 
Ben Lowrie, the new pilot, laid down his signal- 
flags and waited to help Mrs. Heathcote and the 
girls from the rail of the Polly to that of the 
sloop. The transit was easily made. The occu- 
pants of the motor-boat were soon upon the Sea- 
drifVs deck all except Captain Cunningly, who, 
after shaking hands all around, chugged away in 
his launch toward his home port. 

“Now,” said Ned, when the guests were com- 
fortably settled on deck, 4 4 of course you want to 
hustle right back to dinner/ ’ 

“No, no, no!” the girls protested. “We don’t 
want any dinner. We only want a sail in the Sea- 
drift ” 

Kenneth had slipped into the cabin. He 
quickly reappeared, bringing the first course of 
the finest luncheon that the yacht’s store of pro- 
visions could furnish. Ned waved him back. 

“They say they don’t want any eats.” 

“We do!” vehement voices contradicted. 
“We ’re starving!” “Bring on the dinner, 


338 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


please, Captain Sterling !” “We only meant we 
didn’t want to go back to tlie hotel. We didn’t 
dream of having dinner on the yacht.” 

While officers ’ mess, as Kenneth called it, was in 
progress, the captain of the Sea-drift inquired how 
his passengers would like to take a run ocean- 
ward. “You don ’t mind a little tossing, do you ? ’ ’ 
he asked. “There ’s not much sea to-day.” 

“We want to be tossed just as hard as we can,” 
Ray daringly assured him, and every girl de- 
clared herself to be longing for a taste of the 
4 4 real ocean swell. ’ ’ 

“I hope the breeze does n’t die down,” said the 
young skipper, a bit anxiously, for the wind was 
light. 4 4 We ’ll crowd on more sail and go as far 
as we can, anyhow.” 

Onward the Sea-drift glided, and to add to the 
charms of the voyage the girls, each in turn, were 
given a steering lesson. By the time they had 
bade good-by to Campobello, the American shore, 
and West Quoddy Light, Raymonde and Tommy in 
particular were responding like experienced Jack 
Tars to 4 4 Helm down,” 4 4 Helm up,” 4 4 Steady,” 
and “Hard-a-lee.” 

On that cruise the girls learned to converse with 
fluency upon such matters as peak- and throat-hal- 
yards, gaff topsails, bobstays, booms, and top- 
ping-lifts; and Pet was specially interested to 
learn that the tackle used to haul up the anchor 
was called the cat. 


NORTHWARD HO! 


339 


The breeze freshened, speeding the Sea-drift 
onward, and, with the rising wind and the escape 
from the shelter of the shore, the gentle rocking 
became a glorious heave and roll. Laughing 
faces were wet with the cold spray. Captain 
Kenneth gave the order to “ stand by the slick- 
ers and straightway his fair passengers found 
themselves enveloped in great oilskin coats, which 
were always kept aboard for use in emergency. 

“You ’re taking us straight across to Europe!” 
declared Madelon. “There ’s nothing but water 
ahead of us !” 

“No; you ’re looking toward Nova Scotia,” re- 
plied Ned, at the wheel. 

They went about on the other tack. ‘ ‘ There ’s 
a new island!” Madelon exclaimed, pointing 
southward. “My, what a lot of them we ’ve seen 
to-day! Deer Island and Indian Island and the 
Wolves, and — oh, I ’ll never be able to remember 
all their names! What one is that, Ned?” 

‘ ‘ Grand Manan, ’ ’ he answered. “We anchored 
there night before last.” 

As onward they sailed toward this new isle, 
Grand Manan surprised them by changing color, 
by beginning to blush. That long line of far- 
away cliffs became flushed with a soft, rosy tint, as 
if, hours too soon, it was bathed in the sunset glow. 

“Oh, look at it now!” cried Raymonde. “It ’s 
changed just like a fairy island ! It ’s turning a 
regular rose-color.” 


340 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Every one was gazing at the distant rock wall, 
parting the blue sky from the bluer sea and blush- 
ing with that wonderful rosy light. 

“It looks too lovely to be real! ,, said Mrs. 
Heathcote. “I feel as if it were a cloud island 
come down from the sky!” 

‘ 4 1 know what it is ! ’ ’ exclaimed Lee. “It ’s the 
beautiful land of the Fata Morgana, that Eliza, 
in Hans Andersen’s story, saw when she was car- 
ried through the air by the white swans.” 

“What ’s Grand Manan like when you ’re on 
it?” Raymonde asked Kenneth. 

“Want to see?” 

“Don’t I? Could we go there to-day? It 
does n ’t look very far. How long would it take ? ’ ’ 

“We could make it before night, easy, with this 
wind. ’ ’ 

Immediately an eager chorus arose: “Take us 
to Grand Manan ! Oh, do take us ! ” 

“And we could sail home again by moonlight!” 
cried Madelon. “You know, Kenneth, you and 
Ned will have to do something to make up for not 
finding my Island of the Southern Cross.” 

“Grand Manan and a moonlight sail!” sang 
Raymonde. 

‘ ‘ And a picnic supper on the rose-pink rocks ! ’ ’ 
added Tommy, forgetting that after sundown their 
tint would be quite different. 

“I suppose mothers have nothing to say about 


NORTHWARD HO! 341 

it, being merely passengers,’ ’ remarked Mrs. 
Heathcote. 

The girls gathered about her, to coax and ca- 
jole. Then Raymonde turned to her brother at 
the helm. 

“Go away from the wheel, Ned!” she com- 
manded. “Let me steer. I know what to head 
for !” 

“Mrs. Heathcote, we ’re threatened with mu- 
tiny,” said Kenneth. “The chief desperado is 
driving my mate from the wheel. It ’s Grand 
Manan or cutlasses. Take your choice.” 

“Safety first is my motto; so I choose Grand 
Manan,” replied Mrs. Heathcote, laughing. 

At this she heard herself called by her five 
daughters, an angel, a darling, a jewel, and a 
love. 

“All aboard for the Fata Morgana!” sang Lee. 

The captain of the Sea-drift made a speaking 
trumpet of his hands and thundered to the mate at 
his elbow: 

“Head for Grand Manan!” 


CHAPTER XXI 


A RACE WITH THE CLOUDS 

“The man at the wheel 
Was taught to feel 
Contempt for the wildest blow-i-ow; 

And it often appeared 
When the weather had cleared 
He had been in his bunk below. ’ ’ 

N ED chanted this ditty in his sister’s ear as 
she stood at the helm, exhorting the waves 
to rock her harder. From that moment it became 
her ambition to show him that the wilder the 
“blow-i-ow” the keener was her delight. By and 
by it began to look as if she might be given a 
chance to prove her ability to weather a squall. 
A dark cloud appeared on the western horizon, 
suggesting heavy weather. The breeze, which 
was fresh before, seemed already to be increasing. 

Mrs. Heathcote beckoned furtively to her son, 
and said softly, as he bent over her : 

“I don’t like that black cloud. It looks as if 
it was fitting up for a squall. Do you think we ’ll 
be caught in one?” 

“Oh, no!” he replied. “We ’ll be in port be- 
fore that strikes us.” 


342 


343 


A EACE WITH THE CLOUDS 

“I ’m not so sure,” she answered. “ Any way, 
I ’m glad we have a pilot aboard, who knows the 
coast. It was very thoughtful of you boys to 
secure him today for my benefit.” 

6 i I knew we could n ’t wheedle you aboard with- 
out him,” remarked Ned. “But we don’t need 
him a bit. And this won’t amount to much. You 
ought to have seen the squall that struck us off 
Machias, though! We thought our mast was 
going by the board. Oh, it was great!” 

Ned’s eyes sparkled at the glorious recollection, 
but his mother did not relish the thought of masts 
going by the board. 

“Look at our Fata Morgana,” exclaimed Lee, 
pointing to the still distant wall of rock, which 
had lost its rosy tint. “It ’s changed again. It ’s 
all gray and cold and weird-looking now. It is 
a fairy island.” 

“I feel like the Queen of the Sea-gulls!” cried 
Madelon. “I ’d like to fly up to the sky and 
ride on those clouds.” 

The next hour witnessed a race between the 
gathering squall and the yacht moving swiftly on 
her course. There could be no thought of return- 
ing to the peaceful haven of Campobello. The 
harbor of North Head at Grand Manan was now 
the nearest port. Could they reach it before the 
storm broke? 

“It doesn’t look much like a moonlight sail 
home again!” laughed Raymonde. “What ’ll we 


344 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


do if it pours all the evening and won’t stop?” 

4 ‘Stay storm-bound on Grand Manan,” replied 
her mother. 

“ All night? What fun!” 

“Well,” said Mrs. Heathcote, “whatever my 
venturesome daughters may be planning, I, for 
one, intend to stay high and dry in port and not 
set foot in the Sea-drift again till the squall ’s 
over and the sea calms down. Madelon and 
Tommy, if you don’t calm down, I shall have to 
lock you both in the cabin to save your lives. No, 
batten you down under hatches, that ’s the correct 
nautical term, I believe. For you must sit still, 
girls, or you ’ll be overboard!” 

“Mrs. Heathcote, how could anybody help 
nearly jumping overboard with happiness, to 
think of spending the night on Grand Manan ?” re- 
turned Madelon. “I ’ve been pining to do it ever 
since I had the first glimpse of our Fata Mor- 
gana.” 

“Where are you going to sleep?” asked Ned. 
“Out in the rain or on top of those cliffs?” 

“In some cave in the rocks,” declared 
Tommy. 

“But aren’t there any people on the island?” 
asked Raymonde. ‘ ‘ I thought we could find some 
house to stay in. ’ ’ 

“There’s a lighthouse at North Head, where 
we land,” put in Kenneth. “Raymonde, you ’d 
better apply for a place as keeper.” 


A RACE WITH THE CLOUDS 345 

“We can sleep in the lighthouse !” she cried, 
charmed at the idea. 

But Pilot Lowrie observed: 

“ Lighthouses ain’t intended for hotels.’ ’ 

“B-b-but they wouldn’t turn us away in the 
storm!” argued Peter Pan. “They wouldn’t 
leave us to freeze and drown in the rain.” 

“Well, the light-keeper ain’t the only inhabit- 
ant,” said Ben Lowrie. “There ’s Cap’n Haw- 
kins. He ’ll put you up for as long as you like.” 

A sea-captain’s home sounded almost as ro- 
mantic as a lighthouse, and Madelon exclaimed in 
rapture : 

“Girls, do you take it in? We ’re having a 
real adventure at last.” 

A real adventure they were having and no mis- 
take! Raymonde’s wind-blown curls glistened 
with the flying spray, and there was no paling of 
her rosy cheeks. 

“The cockpit ’s too tame and safe,” she com- 
plained. “I want to stand in the bow.” 

4 ‘ All right, ’ ’ said Kenneth. “We ’ll lash you to 
the mast.” 

“Like Farragut!” she cried. “Oh, do!” 

Madelon was laughing with excitement, and the 
spirit of the scene appeared to have entered into 
her, affecting her with a joyous delirium. She 
behaved &s though really akin to the Queen of the 
Sea-gulls. 

Hurrying storm or fleeing sloop, which was des- 


346 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


tined to win? Less and less grew the expanse of 
white-capped sea between the yacht and the on- 
coming squall. The young skipper himself was 
quite unconcerned, for already they were near- 
ing their goal, a safe anchorage. The giant cliffs 
of Grand Manan were near now and looked 
friendly enough to the voyagers, because some- 
where within their mighty arms lay the cove to- 
ward which the Sea-drift was plowing her way. 

The race was almost run ! Kenneth had yielded 
the helm to Lowrie, and the pilot skirted the 
island, safely passing headland after headland. 
But woe to the storm-driven vessel hurled on the 
rocky coast of Grand Manan! One glowering 
promontory was famed for the destruction 
wrought by the out-jutting rock at its base; yet 
this forbidding cliff bounded and sheltered, not 
the harbor of North Head, but a little cove, where, 
the danger-point once rounded, a boat could come 
to anchor. As the yacht was passing this king of 
all the cliffs, there came a cry from Raymonde. 

“Look! Look! The ‘A’ and the wheels! 
There they are! There! Oh, Madelon, look! 
look! Up there !” 

“Where? Where? What do you mean? I 
don’t see anything!” cried Madelon, dizzy from 
the rocking and rolling. 

“Right there at the top of the cliff! Can’t you 
see it? Your ‘A,’ — your mystic sign! Mother! 


A RACE WITH THE CLOUDS 347 

Girls! Ned! Don’t you see it too? The sign — 
the ‘A’ and the wheels!” 

All eyes were lifted to the brow of the promon- 
tory. There on its dark forehead was traced the 
mysterious symbol: a giant 4 ‘A” and on each 
side of the letter a black disk with a white circle 
around it. 

4 ‘ Yes, there it is ! I see it too ! ’ ’ exclaimed Mrs. 
Heathcote, and an eager cry from Madelon told 
that she, also, had found her sign. 

4 4 Madelon!” Ray screamed, 4 4 This is your 
Northern Island! It must be! It is!” 

Madelon answered with a cry of exultation: 

4 4 My island! My Northern Island! It ’s 
found! It ’s found! It ’s found!” 

Raymonde turned to Kenneth and his mate. 
4 4 Did you see that sign before? Did you know it 
was there?” 

4 4 We sure did,” answered her brother, 4 4 or you 
wouldn’t be sailing this way now.” 

4 4 You — you — brought us here on purpose?” 
gasped out Madelon. 4 4 But you told us you had 
not found my island yet!” 

4 4 Beg pardon,” Kenneth returned, 4 4 we said we 
had not seen any Southern Crosses yet.” But 
this was no time for further explanations. He 
turned to the patriot mother. 4 4 Mrs. Heathcote, 
have n’t you had enough of a tossing? We ’d bet- 
ter anchor in this next cove and send you all 
ashore in the tenders. There ’s a shack on the 


348 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


beach, where you ’ll be out of the rain. It ’s com- 
ing down hard, soon. We won’t try to make 
North Head till the squall ’s over.” 

The clouds were threatening each instant to 
pour torrents upon the company, and no one be- 
wailed the shortening of the voyage as, the frown- 
ing cliff safely rounded, the yacht turned into the 
cove. The Sea-drift came to anchor, and the two 
rowboats, which served as tenders, were made 
ready to receive the passengers. Suddenly a 
blinding flash blazed from the angry clouds be- 
hind them. Then the enemy from which the 
sloop had fled to safety let forth a roar of thun- 
der, as if for very rage over the escape of the 
yacht. Madelon shivered, then bravely nerved 
herself to stand without flinching the bombard- 
ment of the thunder that she hated. 

‘ 4 Women and children first!” sang Ned. 
* ‘ Here you go, kiddie ! ’ ’ He pretended to pick up 
his sister, that dignified young lady of fifteen — 
and toss her down to trusty Dan Homan, who was 
in charge of the first boat. 

But, as it happened, Raymonde waited with her 
mother, to take her place in the second skiff, and 
in the first boat-load went Madelon and Lee, 
Tommy, and Peter Pan, Ned joining Homan in 
manning the craft. 

“Here ’s a week’s provisions for you!” called 
Kenneth, tossing down a tin of biscuits into Made- 
lon ’s lap. 


A RACE WITH THE CLOUDS 


349 


“Give way!” shouted Ned, and the oars dipped, 
while the passengers waved farewell to the Sea- 
drift. 

Pilot Lowrie commanded the second boat, and 
into it went Ray and her mother, with a big bundle 
of blankets from the cabin. 

“Are n’t you coming with us! ” they inquired of 
Kenneth. 

“No,” he answered; “I ’ve got to set the lights 
and make all snug. Here ’s my dress-suit,” he 
added, throwing a knapsack into the boat. “I ’ll 
swim ashore later.” 

“Good-by! Good-by! This is a lovely ship- 
wreck,” was Raymonde’s parting, as Lowrie 
pulled away from the yacht. 

“Don’t speak of shipwrecks, child, till we ’re 
safe ashore,” her mother admonished. 

To the inexperienced the breakers ahead looked 
alarming where they beat on the strand, but 
danger of swamping there was none, though the 
laughing girls found themselves well splashed 
with spray, as the leading boat reached the shore. 

“Out with you, quick, now, before you get del- 
uged!” was the order, and Ned swung them 
lightly to the beach. 

In came the second tender. Raymonde, her 
hand in the boatman’s big brown one, flew airily 
over the gunwale and landed with a skip. Mrs. 
Heathcote was caught up in the arms of her son, 
who lifted her from the rowboat and carried her to 


350 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


where the sand was dry. By this time the clouds 
hung so dark and heavy that it seemed as if night 
were already falling, but again and again the deso- 
late shore on which they were seeking refuge was 
illumined by the lightning, and the bellowing of 
the defrauded thunder-storm put Madelon’s en- 
durance to a hard test. The squall was really 
upon them now, causing them to rush for the 
shack, which awaited them on a sheltered part of 
the beach. Lowrie opened its door for them in 
the nick of time, for, as they entered, down came a 
pelting, furious shower, rattling on the roof as if 
it would break the timbers. 

Inside the shack it was too dark to see one 
another’s faces, till the pilot, who seemed quite 
at home in the place, lighted a ship’s lantern, 
which he hung in a corner. The illumination 
showed walls of rough boards, some hammocks 
hung from hooks, a cot with a bright red blanket, 
a small cooking-stove with a kettle and frying-pan 
upon it, two seaman’s lockers, a table, folded 
camp-stools, and at one end shelves holding a few 
heavy china cups and dishes. 

“What a cunning little place this is!” cried 
Raymonde. 4 ‘ Who owns it ? ” 

“I do,” Lowrie surprised them by saying. “I 
live on Grand Manan. ” 

“You do? Why did n’t you tell us?” 

“Cap’n Sterling wanted me to lay low about 
that. ’ ’ 


351 


A RACE WITH THE CLOUDS 

Madelon turned from the pilot to Ned. 

“Was this a part of the trick ?” she demanded. 
“Did you mean to have us land here so ’s to make 
it seem more desert island-like V ’ 

“Did you raise this storm on purpose ?” Lee 
sternly questioned. 

“No, the squall wasn’t on our menu,” replied 
Ned. “It ’s a joke on. Toots and me. We meant 
to land you at North Head, but it looks now as if 
we ’d have to put up here for the night/ ’ 

“But what about poor Ken?” asked Madelon. 
“Are you sure the yacht won’t upset? There ’s 
no danger it ’ll break loose and get wrecked, is 
there ? ’ ’ 

“Don’t you worry,” replied Ned. “You 
could n ’t drown him if you tried. ’ ’ 

“I ’ve got plenty o’ room to stow you all,” Low- 
rie assured them. “I ’ve a tent to leeward, an- 
chored so firm a sou’wester couldn’t capsize her. 
The cap’n and the crew can turn in there, and 
though this cabin of mine ain’t exactly fitted up 
for ladies, she ’s water-tight, anyhow.” 

Rapturously Tommy confided to the other girls : 

“We ’ll have to sleep in those hammocks, just 
like sailors!” 

“Do you live in this little cabin all the year 
round ? ’ ’ Ray asked Lowrie. She was ready to be- 
lieve that any hardy islander would from prefer- 
ence dwell like Robinson Crusoe, but the shack, 
it turned out, was meant merely for the accommo- 


352 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

elation of summer campers and fishing-parties. 

i ‘My home ’s over to North Head,” their pilot 
explained. “Cap’n Hawkins, — the one I said 
could put you up, — he ’s my brother-in-law. He ’s 
got things rigged up in style over there. But 
this caboose of mine is the best I can give you 
now. ’ ’ 

The girls assured him that a shack with ham- 
mocks was a million times nicer than “things 
rigged up in style.” 

The thunder-shower was as brief as it was 
violent, though the wind long continued to blow 
furiously. The rain ceased rattling like bullets on 
the roof ; and the clouds that had made it seem like 
night broke, showing patches of clear sky. Lowrie 
had built a fire in the stove and brought out bacon 
and other provisions from the shack’s galley, as 
he called it. While he was preparing supper for 
his guests, the Sea-drift's passengers began to 
demand the presence of their captain. Pet had 
made the harrowing suggestion that he might 
have been struck by lightning, and all were anx- 
ious to hear how he had fared in the worst of the 
squall. Dan Homan was requested to launch a 
boat at once and bring Kenneth ashore. 

“Sorry not to oblige,” was the answer, “but the 
cap’n’s orders was to beach the boats and not go 
back for him.” 

“But he must n’t lose his supper and stay on the 
yacht all night, starving!” protested Raymonde. 


A RACE WITH THE CLOUDS 353 

‘ 4 Come out, girls, and let ’s wigwag to him with 
these blankets !” 

Gathering up two bright-colored blankets from 
the yacht, and followed by Mrs. Heathcote, the 
girls ran out-of-doors, hoping, despite the falling 
twilight, to attract their stubborn skipper’s at- 
tention and make him understand by their signal- 
ling that he must come ashore, not by swimming, 
as he had jokingly threatened to do, but in a boat 
which they would insist on sending to his relief. 
Much blown by the wind, they lined up on the 
foam-washed strand. They could see the sloop 
heaving at her anchorage, her lights twinkling. 
But they did not signal. Instead they uttered 
cries ! 

“What ’s that?” “Oh, what is it?” “Oh, 
look!” “Is it alive?” 

Riding up and down on the surges, an object 
was coming toward them over the water. What 
could it be? A sea monster? At that distance 
and in the dim light, it was impossible to distin- 
guish it clearly; but the dark bulk suggested the 
shell of a giant tortoise with something on its 
back ! 

“It is alive.” 

“It ’s swimming!” 

“It ’s coming right for us!” 

Pet made ready for flight back to their cabin. 

“It ’s a giant turtle!” declared Madelon, “With 
a young turtle on its back !” 


354 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“No, it ’s a sea-lion,” Ray contradicted, “a 
great big sea-lion! There mnst be lots of seals 
and things around here, we ’re so far up north.” 

“It ’s a U-boat,” said the voice of Ned, who 
had stolen up behind them. “See that thing stick- 
ing up? That ’s her periscope.” 

Rising and falling with the waves, on came the 
tortoise, sea-lion, or submarine, or whatever it 
might be. 

“It ’s a man on a raft!” Mrs. Heathcote ex- 
claimed, suddenly. 

“There must have been a shipwreck in the 
storm ! ’ 9 cried Madelon, wild with excitement. 

“Oh, they must all have been drowned except 
that one man!” declared Lee, in horror. 

“We must take him in and take care of him!” 
said Raymonde, thirsting to give first aid. 

In that furious squall, while, safe under shelter, 
they had played at being castaways, a real tragedy 
must have occurred! Compassion mingled with 
the girls ’ excitement, till they discovered that the 
survivor of the shipwreck was conveniently attired 
in a bathing-suit. Moreover, he was steering him- 
self shoreward with a large paddle. Nearer and 
nearer i.e rode, till the foaming breakers burst 
over him. He kept vanishing in clouds of spray, 
only to reappear without a single capsize. All at 
once a shriek arose. 

4 ‘ Kenneth ! It ’s Kenneth ! 9 9 

Their captain it was, reclining in luxurious lazi- 


A RACE WITH THE CLOUDS 355 

ness upon what looked not so much like a raft as 
like a comfortable bed. 

“Ahoy, there, Sir Sea-Lion !” 

“Good evening, Mr. Turtle! What under the 
moon is your shell made of ?” 

Amid such salutes as these, the dripping young 
Neptune rose from the breakers and hauled ashore 
his marine equipage, a brown, canvas-covered mat- 
tress. The girls gathered around him, exclaiming. 

“ What in the world ! A mattress !” 

“Why didn’t it sink?” 

“What ’s it made of? Why didn’t we see it 
before?” 

“It was stowed away,” explained Kenneth. 
“Didn’t you ever see a surf -mattress ? It ’s 
filled with air. That ’s what makes it float. We 
keep it aboard for a life-raft, and pump it up when 
we want to use it. What did you do with my 
knapsack, Doc? I must hurry and dress for din- 
ner. We ’ve got to be swell in a gilt-edged ship- 
wreck like this.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


A SEA TRAGEDY 

K ENNETH, alone of all the company, was per- 
fectly spick and span after the tussle with 
the storm, when, in an absolutely spotless and 
freshly donned white-duck yachting-suit, he 
joined the supper-party in the shack. Bacon, 
sizzling and sputtering from the frying-pan, and 
mugs of tea were already being served, and it was 
while the nearly famished voyagers were enjoying 
the supper, piping hot, that Madelon’s bright eyes 
discovered something on a shelf under the lan- 
tern. Springing from her camp-stool, she 
pounced upon this object, like a kitten on a mouse. 

“Look!” she cried, holding up the trophy. 
“It ’s a piece of lava just like mine.” 

Sure enough! The lump of rough, gray min- 
eral, honeycombed with cavities, was lava, beyond 
a doubt. But she looked in vain for her mystic 
sign. No “A” and wheels adorned this piece. 

“There! Didn’t I write you, ‘Volcanic Island 
discovered?’ ” said Ned. “Maybe you ’ll call me 
a fraud this time !” 

“You ’ll find plenty more of that on the beach,” 
put in Lowrie, “if you hunt for it.” 

356 


A SEA TRAGEDY 


357 


The girls regarded him with wonder. 

“Why,” began Pet, “is there really a volcano 
on this island?” 

“No, Miss; we don’t grow volcaners on Grand 
Manan,” answered the pilot. “That load of lava 
was ballast aboard the ship Lord Ashburton. 
She was wrecked off that cliff we rounded cornin’ 
into this cove.” 

“The cliff where the sign is — the ‘A’ and the 
two circles?” asked Madelon, eagerly. 

“That ’s it. Did you notice that shelving rock 
jutting out from the foot? It was there she 
struck. It was near sixty years ago, but some of 
her ballast ’s scattered over the beach yet!” 

“But the sign? What does it mean?” Ray 
broke in. 

“The ‘A’ stands for Ashburton. That ’s Ash- 
burton Cliff. They painted the sign up there to 
remember the wreck by.” 

‘ ‘ Is that all it means ? An old shipwreck ! ” ex- 
claimed disappointed Madelon. 

“Don’t forget,” said Mrs. Heathcote, “that the 
Queen of the Sea-gulls took the ‘A’ and the 
wheels for her sign.” 

“Have you found out anything about her?” 
eager Madelon asked Ned, who sat next to her 
on a locker. 

“We found plenty of gulls, but no royalty,” 
was the discouraging reply. “I guess you ’re the 
only Queen of the Sea-gulls on the island now.” 


358 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

“But the Southern Cross ?” demanded Ray- 
monde. “You told us you had n’t seen it yet, but 
have you found out what it is?” 

“Yes,” answered Kenneth, “and we ’ll have a 
look at it before we leave Grand Manan.” But he 
refused to tell the girls what or exactly where the 
Southern Cross was. “We ’ll see if you recog- 
nize it when you get to it,” said he. “But you 
ought to hear the story of the Ashburton wreck. 
Captain Lowrie ’ll tell you all about it.” 

“Now for the story of the wreck!” said Ray, 
when supper was over and their pilot had settled 
himself near the stove, ready to tell a good old 
sailor’s yarn. 

“Well,” began Lowrie, “the Lord Ashburton 
was British, but she sailed from France that trip, 
and she must have been cruising round them Eye- 
talian volcaners, too, seeing she took on all that 
lava for ballast. When she come into these 
waters, a storm struck her. She beat about in 
the blinding snow till midnight! Couldn’t make 
no headway. All of a sudden that cliff loomed up 
right ahead, and next minute she struck. Brought 
up broadside against the rock you saw jutting out, 
and pounded herself to death in no time. When 
she begun to break up, her men jumped overboard, 
all but one feller who couldn’t swim. Lucky she 
carried no passengers, only the crew ! There was 
about thirty men aboard her, but only ten got 
ashore. ’ ’ 


A SEA TRAGEDY 359 

‘ 4 But did nobody come out in a life-boat to help 
them?” asked Lee. 

“No; it was close to shore, you know, and be- 
sides the folks on Grand Manan was all asleep. 
They say every one of^’em down to North Head 
was dreaming of wrecks that night. But the news 
that there really was a ship lost was brought by 
the lad who could n’t swim a stroke. He was from 
the Shetland Isles, where maybe it ’s too cold to 
learn to swim. He was hanging onto the cabin- 
house, but when the ship broke up it was cut 
clean off the deck, and the whole caboodle come 
floating ashore, with him riding on the top. 
As soon as he landed he climbed up that cliff 
yonder. ’ ’ 

“What? Ashburton Cliff?” exclaimed Mrs. 
Heathcote. ‘ 4 That enormous cliff ? Why, it looks 
almost perpendicular.” 

“Yes ’m, and, mind you, it was all slippery with 
ice. Three other men went up with him like flies 
on a wall. I calc ’late you ’ll all be glad to know 
one of ’em was an American lad. How they ever 
done it, I don’t know.” 

“Because they had an American with them,” 
murmured Tommy. 

“What did they do when they got to the top?” 
asked Raymonde. 

“Why, that lucky Shetlander that come ashore 
in such grand style, he done a queer thing. He ’d 
never been on Grand Manan before, but while the 


360 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


other fellers were wandering about not knowing 
which way to turn, he struck out right through the 
woods on top of the cliffs — in the deep snow — 
just as if he knew every step of the way, and 
steered straight to a house where an old man and 
his wife lived.” 

“The Queen of the Sea-gulls must have led 
him,” said Madelon, in an aside to Raymonde. 

“Well,” continued Lowrie, “he woke up the old 
couple, and they took him in and warmed him and 
fed him. And next morning the old man set out 
for North Head, to get help for the rest of ’em. 
He come to the school-house first, and the boys 
and girls all run, quick as their young legs could 
carry ’em, to spread the news. They did good 
work, them youngsters ; and the dinners they ’d 
brought with ’em to school, they gave up to feed 
the starving sailors. My mother was one of ’em, 
and my father was in one of the parties that went 
to the rescue. They hunted through the woods for 
the other men that had climbed the cliffs, but 
they only found two. The other party went 
around to the beach to see if there was any alive 
down there. They found a few of ’em, nearly 
frozen to death. They got ’em safe to North 
Head, though, and their drownded mates was all 
buried up in our cemetery yonder.” 

“What about the American boy?” asked Ray. 

“I ’m coming to him now. I told you about the 
old couple that took the Shetlander in. Well, 


A SEA TRAGEDY 


361 


they had a little girl staying with ’em that night, 
little Elfie Hartley, the minister’s daughter. 
Only eight years old she was, but plucky! Not 
afraid of nothing! So there she was, when the 
Shetlander knocked at the door. Well, in the 
morning when the old man started for the school- 
house, Elfie — she lay low. Took it into her little 
head, somehow, to be a rescue party herself. So 
she stowed her own breakfast in her school lunch- 
basket, ’stead of eating it, and slipped out of the 
door when the old lady’s back was turned. It had 
quit storming and there was a hard crust on the 
snow, so her light, little feet didn’t have no trou- 
ble scampering over it ; and off she starts, a-hunt- 
ing for the lost sailors. The plucky little thing 
kept on till by ’m by she run up against a living 
icicle. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 The American boy ? ’ ’ put in Madelon. 

“ Yes, ’t was him, staggering along, covered with 
ice from head to foot, and thinking he ’d never see 
the Stars and Stripes again. She gave him the 
food from her basket and she must have thought 
herself a six-footer, for they say she told him to 
lean on her , — the little fairy. And she towed him 
safe into port, she did, straight back to the house 
where the Shetlander was. So they took him in, 
too, and nursed him good, till he was well again. 
He ’d froze his foot, poor feller.” 

“What a little darling she was !” said Madelon. 

“So her sailor-boy thought,” remarked Lowrie. 


362 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


4 ‘He gave up the sea and went back to the States, 
and — I ain’t heard as he was ever President, but 
folks say he made his way and rose pretty high 
up, too. And by ’m by he come back here for a 
visit. Elfie was a young lady then, and he — ” 

“Married her!” cried Raymonde and Madelon, 
together. 

‘ ‘ Why, sure he did ! But I say that was a bad 
way of paying us back for taking him in and nurs- 
ing him. For she was the prettiest thing on this 
island ; and he took her off to the States with him — 
so we lost her for good.” 

“Girls!” exclaimed Madelon. “Maybe Elfie 
was my Queen of the Sea-gulls.” 

“I never heard of her becoming a queen,” said 
Lowrie, “but she was fit to be one.” 

Like the Grand Manan folk when the Lord Ash- 
burton was lost, the girls dreamed of wrecks that 
night, as they slept in their hammocks. Next 
morning the sky was as clear as the eyes that Ray- 
monde turned toward it when she peeped from the 
door of the shack, and the sea was in the friendli- 
est mood, sunlit and flashing. 

After breakfast, the invaders of Canadian terri- 
tory lingered at the scene of the wreck only long 
enough to collect pieces of lava as souvenirs. 
Mrs. Heathcote observed Kenneth and Ned meas- 
uring the frowning heights of Ashburton Cliff 
with their eyes, and their yearning glances said 
so plainly, “Excelsior!” that she wisely urged 


A SEA TRAGEDY 


363 


an immediate departure in the yacht. The boats 
were launched, the passengers and crew returned 
to the Sea-drift, and soon they were under way, 
their goal not Campobello, but the harbor of 
North Head, from which the squall had kept them 
the evening before. More than once they disem- 
barked before their haven was reached. When 
their pilot pointed out Amethyst Cave, the ex- 
plorers had to land, of course, and loot the cavern, 
from the depths of which they brought out gem- 
like trophies, bits of purple amethystine quartz. 

“And a cavern hides from the creeping tides 
The royal treasure I own/’ 

quoted Madelon, insisting that they had found 
her Queen of the Sea-gulls ’ hoard of riches. 

They landed again at “Her Majesty’s Win- 
dow,” as Lee poetically renamed what Lowrie 
called “The Hole in The Wall.” It was a gi- 
gantic circular window, hewn by the hand of Na- 
ture clear through a projecting crag: inside it, as 
in a picture-frame, the girls posed together, while 
Ned and Kenneth took snap-shots of the merry 
group. 

Finally, rounding the cloven promontory from 
which Swallow-Tail Lighthouse had flashed a 
warning all night long, the Sea-drift glided into 
the peaceful harbor of North Head. Embracing 
the calm bay, stretched a white crescent of beach ; 
above lay a pretty village with a sunny green 


364 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


background of meadow, and, highest of all, far 
as the eye could reach, extended a line of forest, 
dark against the clear horizon. They left the 
Sea-drift moored at the North Head dock. Then 
Ben Lowrie led the visitors up to Captain Haw- 
kins’ cottage, where they would have spent the 
preceding night had not the wild winds and waves 
forbidden. Here the girls were destined to have 
a new shock of surprise. Mrs. Hawkins greeted 
the party with: ‘ 1 Come right in! Your luggage 
is here already !” and they entered the neat, white 
cottage to find, blocking the way to the stairs, a 
collection of familiar-looking valises, which, it 
turned out, had been sent on the day before, by 
steamboat from Campobello. 

“Now that we ’ve found our Northern Island of 
the Southern Cross, we ought to spend at least 
a week on it,” said Mrs. Heathcote. 

“Another plot!” shrieked the girls, demolish- 
ing her with hugs, as a reward for this last and 
most magnificent conspiracy of which she had 
been found guilty. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE WHISTLE 

U NCLE SAM’S expeditionary force in Can- 
ada lost no time in setting out to explore the 
Northern Island. To be sure, the sail to the 
Southern Cross had to be postponed till Captain 
Ben Lowrie, a pilot ever in demand, should again 
be free and able to guide the yacht to that point 
On the coast of Grand Manan where the mysteri- 
ous object awaited the voyagers. But when the 
happy party from the States was not off for a 
sail in the Sea-drift , it was generally busy dis- 
covering new places of interest ashore. The 
young people won the hearts of the kindly fislier- 
folk, too, and learned more about the winsome 
ways of Elfie, the darling of North Head; but 
when Madelon asked whether that brave little 
lassie had called herself the Queen of the Sea- 
gulls, even the gray-haired few who could remem- 
ber the night of the Ashburton wreck only shook 
their heads and replied that it sounded like her, 
but they did not know. 

Pnable though they were to follow any farther, 
as yet, the trail of the sea-gull queen, the explor- 
ers tracked to its lair a monster whose voice was 

365 


366 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


a mighty bellow that could be heard far out at sea. 
This noisy monster was the fog whistle, and, a 
white mist having risen over the bay, the gigantic 
horn was roaring forth a sonorous solo when they 
invaded his far-away den upon the rocks. His 
obliging keeper welcomed them into the whistle- 
house where the twin engines stood, and delivered 
a lecture upon the bewildering maze of machinery 
by which the horn was made to utter its warning 
blasts, but his discourse was interrupted twice 
each minute by that deafening bray. 

“If you want to get the full beauty of that 
music, come out-of-doors, ,, said Kenneth. 

He led the girls out to where, above two huge 
cylinders of compressed air, the Titan mega- 
phone protruded from the side of the whistle- 
house. A severe test followed, for only the most 
steady-nerved could stand directly under that 
mighty horn and endure the ear-torturing roar. 
One instant of “that music’ ’ was enough for 
Madelon and Pet: they fled ignominiously, with 
their hands to their heads, to save their precious 
ear-drums. But Ray, Lee, and Tommy set their 
teeth and stood their ground till the blast was 
over. 

“Now, let ’is hear you reel off all you ’ve 
learned about fog whistles,” said Ned, after- 
wards ; but his sister alone was foolhardy enough 
to attempt to repeat the whistle-keeper’s lecture, 
and her brother jeered much over her hopeless 


THE WHISTLE 


367 


flunking. “ Girls,’ ’ he remarked, “have vacuums 
in their brains where the mechanical cells ought 
to be.” 

The insinuation that their brains, nourished at 
Netley Hall, could possibly hold empty spaces, 
was vehemently resented by the indignant dam- 
sels. Vacuums indeed! Why, their brains were 
so full of intelligence, it was fairly oozing 
through. 

A day or two later Captain Kenneth and his 
slanderous mate sailed away in the Sea-drift for 
a flying visit to Nova Scotia. 

Said Raymonde: 

“Girls, while they ’re gone, let ’s study fog- 
whistling! We ’ll ask the keeper to give us les- 
sons, and when the boys get back we ’ll rattle otf 
all we ’ve learned, and we ’ll not hear any more 
about vacuums.” 

The whistle-keeper was flattered by the interest 
which these girlish visitors exhibited in his be- 
loved monster. Though the sky was clear, he 
set the horn blowing for their benefit. He re- 
peated his whole bewildering lecture and invited 
them to come again as often as they wished. It 
must be confessed that the zeal of all his pupils 
but Raymonde flagged early. She, however, 
could not be beguiled from her chosen course of 
study. She wrote down in her note-book the 
names of the different parts of the machinery, 
and she artfully tried to lure her teacher into 


368 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

inviting her to work the engine, herself. But he 
never took her hints, though he ended by gallantly 
declaring she could run the whistle as well as he, 
and she was not quite bold enough to ask him out- 
right. 

‘ 4 When the fog comes up do you blow the 
whistle as soon as you see it, or do you wait till 
it gets real thick ?” asked his pupil. 

“If we waited,’ ’ replied the keeper, “we might 
have a wreck. We wouldn’t keep our jobs long, 
either. The Government would have something 
to say. No, we don’t take no chances with the 
fogs. Quick as we see one, we start the engine.” 

“Right away?” 

“Right on the minute.” 

Next day, there was a picnic luncheon at Eel 
Brook Lake, the emerald-tinted pond which the 
island held, hidden by the woods, like a jewel that 
had to be safe-guarded. W'hen they were driving 
home again, with Tommy as charioteer, Ray- 
monde put in a plea that they should stop for one 
more visit to Whistle Head. Deep in her heart 
lurked the hope that her good-natured instructor 
would at last invite her to try her own hand at 
setting the giant horn blowing. To her disap- 
pointment the keeper was off duty and absent that 
afternoon, but his wife assured her that the new 
asistant, Harry Hardy, would willingly give her 
a lesson. 

“He ’ll be down there now,” said she, “for he 


THE WHISTLE 369 

was running the whistle for some artist ladies 
just a little while ago.” 

Leaving Mrs. Heathcote to rest in the keeper’s 
cottage, the girls descended the rude stairway 
zigzagging down the cliff and leading to the 
whistle house. But Harry Hardy had vanished. 
Hoping that he would presently appear, they 
stood on the rocks near the horn, gazing out over 
the smooth waters of the bay, and wondering how 
soon the Sea-drift would come gliding home to 
port. What a sleepy haze was in the air ! Out to 
sea it was more than a haze! On the horizon it 
was thickening, whitening, forming a long, thin 
band, like a veil. 

‘ ‘ Good gracious!” exclaimed Lee, i 1 there ’s a 
fog coming up now!” 

‘ 4 Mercy me! So there is!” cried Raymonde. 
i 1 We must find Harry this minute.” 

The girls scrambled up the stairway. High 
and low they hunted, but the neglectful Harry was 
nowhere to be found. Looking back again over 
the bay, they saw that the fog-band had become 
like a thick curtain. 

“Oh, dear! Where can that Harry Hardy 
be!” fumed Ray. “You have to start the engine 
the moment you see any sign of fog, and Ned said 
he and Ken would surely be back some time to- 
day! I just know they ’ll be caught in it and 
Mother ’ll worry so ! Oh, what shall we do f ” 

“Do it yourself! You ought to know how by 


370 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


this time!” said Tommy. “You don’t need 
Harry. Go ahead and start the thing without 
him. ’ ’ 

“Yes, go ahead!” urged Madelon. “What ’s 
the good of all your fussing over the old whistle 
if you can’t blow it to save Ned and Kenneth?” 

“All right! I ’ll do it!” Raymonde answered 
pluckily. “I know I can! Come on, Old Glory 
Girls ! Let ’s show Grand Manan that Americans 
are good for something.” 

They raced down the zigzag steps again at the 
risk of breaking their patriotic necks, and darted 
into the whistle-house. 

“Now, old fellow, wake up and roar!” Ray- 
monde commanded, giving the nearer engine, still 
warm from recent exercise, a friendly pat. 

Before the old fellow could comply she had 
to feed him, and luckily she knew where his in- 
flammable food was kept. Quickly she filled the 
little gasolene cup, giving her tame monster a 
dose in his airpipe too. 

“Pour in more! Feed him up hard!” cried 
Tommy. 

“No, don’t! You might make the engine blow 
up!” objected the cautious Lee. “Gasolene’s 
awfully explosive.” 

“He has to have a drink of kerosene next,” said 
Raymonde, and she carefully poured oil into the 
other cups that needed replenishing. “There! 
I hope that ’s food enough to keep him alive. 


THE WHISTLE 


371 


Now — I open those valves. And now — I fire the 
match. Peter Pan, you coward, what are you put- 
ting your fingers in your ears for? It won’t go 
off with a bang.” 

“Now, easy! Easy! Don’t get nervous! 
Don’t get feazed!” begged Tommy, pretending to 
quiet Raymonde’s nerves by stroking her sooth- 
ingly down the back, a ministration which the 
volunteer whistle-tender found anything but help- 
ful, as she came to the supreme test of her skill. 

Breaking a match to the correct length, Ray 
loaded the spring-plug with it. 

“Now, girls, all of you get ready, and when I 
say, ‘Push!’ we ’ll all push the fly-wheel as hard 
as we can. The keeper says it takes a strong 
man to move it, but five of us together ought to be 
as strong as he is.” 

“Stronger!” declared Tommy. “If five Old 
Glories couldn’t beat one Canadian, I’d be 
ashamed of us. Go ahead, Ray! Stand by to 
push the wheel, girls! Now, Peter, in just one 
second you ’re going to be blown sky-high and 
right back into the States.” 

Raymonde jammed the loaded spring-plug into 
place. The match was fired. Then she cried: 
“Push!” adding her own strength to that of her 
friends. The great fly-wheel was resting at the 
“dead point” and not to be easily stirred, but 
the five together threw all the muscle of their 
arms into the glorious push that they gave it. 


372 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Then instead of Tommy’s predicted explosion, 
came a five-fold ‘ ‘ Hooray ! ’ 9 The wheel was turn- 
ing, — beginning to whir round and round! Ray- 
monde’s task was over. Breathlessly they waited 
for the giant horn to speak. Soon it came, the 
deep-toned, mighty bray. Silence, and then once 
more sounded the monster’s warning. 

‘ 1 Good old boy! He roared right on time! 
After just five seconds !” announced Ray, her eyes 
on the whistle-house clock. 

Anxious lest the horn should fail them despite 
this hopeful beginning, the girls listened eagerly 
for a third blast. 

“He must roar again after fifty seconds,” said 
Raymonde, and she was not disappointed. 

Exactly on time, the guardian of the coast sent 
forth its voice again over the misty sea, calling 
to all the vessels on the danger-road, “Beware 
the deadly cliffs of Grand Manan!” 

“It ’s working all right! It ’s going to keep on 
blowing beautifully,” cried triumphant Ray- 
monde ; and faithfully, twice each minute, the fog- 
horn continued to bray. 

“I ’m going to stick my flag up on this engine 
just to tell people that Uncle Sam’s nieces started 
the whistle,” said Madelon. 

Unfastening the tiny flag, which, during their 
stay in foreign territory, she had been wearing 
pinned to her blouse, she set it in a conspicuous 
place, like a saucy little emblem of conquest. 


THE WHISTLE 


373 


Presently the girls stepped out-of-doors, to see 
how near the enemy had advanced, and found 
themselves enveloped in a blanket of chilly vapor. 
Beach and sea were blotted out. The moan of 
horns from mist-blinded vessels was beginning 
to answer the whistle’s voice. Turning back to 
the stairway, before they could mount, they saw 
through the fog two forms descending the zig- 
zag flight. First, slowly and painfully limped 
Harry Hardy. Behind him, urging him in vain 
to let her help him, came Mrs. Heathcote. 

“Oh, girls, there you are!” she exclaimed. “I 
was afraid you ’d stray off and lose yourselves in 
this awful fog. Poor Mr. Hardy has hurt him- 
self quite badly, but he won’t let anybody help 
him ! ’ ’ 

Harry crawled to the lowest step and limped 
toward the whistle-house. 

“Lame as a dog!” was his disgusted answer to 
the girls’ anxious inquiries. “That colt oughter 
be shot! The kick I got ain’t no joke! Lucky 
the boss got back and set the whistle going! I 
was in a tight squeak, getting caught by the fog 
so far away from my post, but I could n ’t hurry 
no faster!” 

“We started the whistle because you weren’t 
here,” began Raymonde. 

Young Hardy stared, open-mouthed. 

“Girls, you started it?” exclaimed her aston- 
ished mother. 


374 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


‘ ‘ Ray did the work, ’ ’ said Madelon. ‘ 1 The rest 
of us only pushed the wheel.’ ’ 

Despite his pain Harry burst into a laugh. 

“You ’ve broke the law,” said he, “but you ’ve 
done me the best turn anybody ever done, and I ’ll 
not forget it!” 

“How did we break the law?” asked innocent 
Raymonde. 

“Why, you have to have a license from the 
Government before you can run that whistle.” 

With a smothered groan Hardy dropped down 
on a bench outside the whistle-house, and explained 
to the violators of the law that the blame for his 
absence rested upon Dick, an unbroken colt be- 
longing to the head keeper. A few minutes be- 
fore the girls’ arrival, Dick had leaped the barbed 
wire fence and bolted, with Harry in pursuit. 

“I could n’t let the brute break his neck falling 
over the cliff,” said the young man. “Thought 
I could head him off, but the rascal galloped half- 
way to Lowrie’s. I cornered him at last, but be- 
fore I got a hold of his halter, he lit out with his 
heels and pretty near put me otft o’ the game. 
I thought my leg was broke at first. Just my luck 
to have the fog come up when I wasn’t on 
hand.” 

“The fog didn’t know we were on hand,” 
loftily remarked Tommy. 

Late in the afternoon the sleeping wind awoke 


THE WHISTLE 


375 


and scattered the fog. The volunteer whistle- 
tenders went down with Mrs. Heathcote to the 
North Head dock to watch the vessels, no longer 
mist-veiled and blinded, putting into port, and to 
scan the harbor for a sight of the Sea-drift. Be- 
fore long there was a great flourishing of hand- 
kerchiefs, as they recognized their yacht. The 
white sloop, becalmed for an hour and more, but 
now with a good breeze to speed her homeward, 
came gliding toward the wharf. Her boatman, 
painter in hand, stood ready to leap to the land- 
ing. Ned was hauling down the mainsail. Ken- 
neth, one hand on the wheel, waved his cap with 
the other. But how was this ! The Sea-drift had 
sailed away with only three aboard, and she was 
returning with four ! She carried a passenger in 
her cockpit, and before she reached the dock this 
stranger rose and began to wave his cap, too. But 
his salute was meant for the brawny seamen of 
North Head, gathered on the wharf. The man 
was tall and gaunt. He wore a tunic of weather- 
stained khaki and a Highlander’s tartan kilt and 
sporran, and he flourished his cap, a Scotch Glen- 
garry, with his left hand, for in place of his right 
arm was an empty sleeve. 

All around them the girls heard the word 
passed: 1 ‘ Donald! ’T is Donald himself!” 
“ ’Tis Donald MacCallum.” 

“Alec, lad,” said a sailor, just landed, to his 
young son, “run to the MacCallums’ and tell them 


376 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

Donald ’s come back. No, say ‘the captain.’ 
He ’s a captain now.” 

What an excitement there was ashore, where 
generally all was so calm! What a scampering 
and shouting of children! Women and maidens 
began to join the bronzed seamen on the wharf. 
With an ovation such as Grand Manan had rarely 
given any one before, the people of North Head 
welcomed home the one-armed man in khaki and 
kilt. For the Northern Island boasted a hero 
among her stalwart sons. Donald MacCallum had 
enlisted as a humble private in a Canadian High- 
land regiment. He had gone overseas to the 
Great War, and now he was returning home, an 
officer, with two badges of honor; one, an empty 
sleeve, and the other, the military cross. 

The Sea-drift glided up to the landing. The 
war-worn hero sprang ashore, and, as soon as the 
two American youths could reach their own party 
in the crowd, Kenneth explained. 

“We picked him up in Digby. He ’d landed at 
Halifax and run down there to take the steamboat. 
But he ’d have had to go all the way around by 
St. John to get home, so we took him along with 
us by the short cut. He ’s a great old kiltie ! 
Wait till I introduce him.” 

As soon as he could recapture the “kiltie,” 
Kenneth presented “Captain MacCallum,” who 
said gratefully, with his rugged Scotch accent, 


THE WHISTLE 377 

that the young gentlemen from the States had 
been “verra ceevil” to him. 

“He wouldn’t say that , if we ’d landed him on 
the Ashburton rocks instead of here,” remarked 
Ned. “The fog came rolling over us, and we 
couldn’t see how near shore we were running till 
the whistle began to talk.” 

“That fog-horn ’s pretty good music when 
you ’re caught in the fog,” said Kenneth. 

“I ’ve thought of that sound in the trenches 
monny a time when the shells have come scream- 
ing overhead,” said the soldier back from the 
front. “And I ’ve told myself, ‘Donald, ye ’ll 
be a lucky mon if ye live to hear the good old fog- 
horn again.’ ” 

At this, up spoke Madelon, mischief in her eyes. 

“But you don’t know who started the fog-horn 
blowing to-day!” 

Then, of course, it all had to come out: how 
Raymonde, urged on and abetted by her friends, 
had broken maritime law and saved the situation 
for Harry Hardy. Skipper Kenneth and his mate 
and Captain MacCallum all stood stricken with 
amazement. 

“What about vacuums in girls’ brains now?” 
Madelon inquired, with a superior smile. 

Ned the scoffer capitulated. 

‘ 4 1 recant ! I take it all back. V acuums f Not 
on your life ! I admit that they have electric bat- 


378 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


teries in their brains — that ’s what makes ’em 
act so quick. But my brain needs a vacuum 
cleaner. ’ 9 

“That ’s just what I ’d have expected of the 
general,” Kenneth declared, with admiring con- 
fidence in his commanding-officer, and he remarked 
that the world was a pretty safe place with Gen- 
eral Raymonde in it, for wherever you turned 
you found her running a life-saving service. 

“But don’t tell people what we did,” pleaded 
Ray. “We don’t want to get Harry into trouble. 
And besides,” she added, laughing, “I don’t think 
I care to be arrested by the Government!” 

But Captain MacCallum replied : 

“The Government ought to say, ‘Thank ye 
heartily.’ And I say it, onny way. The Stars 
and Stripes has done the Union Jack two verra 
good turns to-day, and the Union Jack will be 
verra much obliged to it.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


RAYS OF LIGHT 

“0 helmsman, steer with care, 

Of the hidden reef beware ! 

I ’ll show you the way to a peaceful bay, 

The gate to my kingdom fair.” 

M A DELON was singing the song of the Sea- 
gull Queen, and the helmsman was indeed 
steering with care. Pilot Lowrie was guiding the 
Sea-drift in full view of the majestic cliffs that 
guarded the southern end of Grand Manan. All 
his skill was needed now, for deadlier even than 
the rocks of the northern shore were the treacher- 
ous shoals off Southern Head. The queen’s vas- 
sals, the wild gulls and gannets, were winging up 
and down the face of the noble promontory past 
which the yacht was sailing. A lighthouse 
crowned this headland, and Lowrie pointed to it, 
saying: 

“There ’s Gull Cliff Light.” 

Onward the sloop glided. Eagerly the girls 
scanned the heights and the boulder-strewn shore. 
On this cruise, they had been told, they would see 
the Southern Cross; but the voyage was almost 
over, and they had not found it yet. 

379 


380 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

Suddenly, while Raymonde’s eyes were search- 
ing the top of the bluff, Madelon cried out joy- 
fully : 

“There it is! Don’t you see it? Down there 
by the shore ! That big rock ! It ’s in the shape 
of a cross.” 

Beneath the shadow of the towering cliff wall, 
jagged masses and columns of stone covered the 
strand, and, standing out before its fellows, ap- 
peared the object of that day’s quest. Sentinel- 
like it stood, keeping watch over the water through 
storm and calm. Gently the light, lapping waves 
now touched the foot of its broad and rugged ped- 
estal. Sea-birds circled over this faithful guard 
as if they loved it. Yes, it was a cross, a rude 
rock cross, wrought by no human workmanship, 
for the Hand that had formed it had placed those 
mighty cliffs above it and set the boundaries of 
the sea. 

The Southern Cross was found. Their goal 
was reached. A little farther the Sea-drift 
skimmed, that the voyagers might gaze on the 
grandeur of the long line of cliffs bowing outward 
and curving inward, like the folds of a giant cur- 
tain turned to stone. But day was waning, and 
the yacht soon dropped anchor. The pilgrims, 
putting off in the tenders, landed on one of the 
little sheltered beaches. Then their pilot left 
them and ascended the steep pathway up the bluffs 
to find a lodging-place for the travelers under his 


RAYS OF LIGHT 


381 


care. Two nights were to be spent at Southern 
Head. The crew were to sleep aboard the yacht, 
but Lowrie had assured Mrs. Heathcote that she 
and the girls could without doubt be accommo- 
dated in the cottage of Mrs. Bancroft, the widow 
of a gallant sea-captain. While awaiting their 
pilot’s return, the visitors strolled along the sands 
at the foot of the heights to make friends with 
the only colonists to be seen, the gray-winged, 
snowy-breasted gulls. Ever restless, filling the 
air with their mewing cries, the graceful sea-birds 
rose and circled and sank again, up and down the 
dark face of the cliff that bore their name. Con- 
sternation seized them as they saw the invaders of 
their domain halt at the center of their colony, the 
huge home rock where the young birds waited. 
The trespassers did not disturb the feathery nurs- 
ery, but sauntered on till Lowrie reappeared with 
the news that the sea-captain’s widow was ready 
to welcome this influx of guests. 

The sun was low. Already the western sky was 
glowing with the tints of the fire-opal. The sea 
with the sunset glory upon it was too beautiful to 
leave. Reembarking in the tenders, the explorers 
rowed to the Southern Cross and landed at its 
base. There the mother rested, but her daugh- 
ters, with Ned and Kenneth to help them, climbed 
the rough and rugged mass of rock from which the 
cross rose. 

Madelon felt as if she were taking possession 


382 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

of a little kingdom all her own. This, she de- 
clared, was the rocky throne of her Majesty of 
the Sea-gulls and, balancing herself airily, the 
happy girl spread out her arms and sang: 

“The Queen of the Sea-gulls, I, 

Free as my birds, and shy. 

Poising, I stand on the rim of the land, 

Then wing me away to the sky. ’ ’ 

‘ 1 Please don’t wing you away till I Ve taken 
your photograph,” begged Kenneth, armed with 
a big kodak. “Madelon, won’t you pose for me 
up here by the cross? I want to get a picture of 
you before the sun goes down.” 

“I ’ll pose for you if you ’ll snap me quick,” 
she merrily promised. ‘ 4 But if you don’t catch 
me in time, I will fly away ! Those sunset clouds 
look so inviting!” 

“The rest of us must hide behind the rock,” said 
Raymonde. “It wouldn’t do to have mere mor- 
tals spoiling the picture of the Fairy Queen of the 
Sea-gulls.” 

While Ned mourned the fact that with reckless 
gallantry he had used up all his films in photo- 
graphing the bevy of girls, Kenneth posed Made- 
Ion to suit his own artistic fancy. Then, while the 
others crept out of sight lest they mar her maj- 
esty’s portrait, he pushed off in one of the boats, 
to bring himself within proper range for a shot at 
the sea-gull queen’s successor. 


n jftinHaBs 



Over her head two gulls sailed slowly and rested on their wings, as if 

hoping to be in the picture, too 

































































*■ 

















































RAYS OF LIGHT 


383 


The sun was dropping, a great golden ball, down 
to the sea. Its beams threw a radiance over the 
whole picture, as Madelon stood poising by the 
Southern Cross. She had loosed her hair to the 
ocean breezes, and it floated around her now like 
dark shadow, but her face was kissed by the golden 
light. Over her head two gulls sailed slowly and 
rested on their wings, as if hoping to be in the 
picture too. By the magic of the camera, Ken- 
neth, his boat idle on the sleeping water, captured 
the lovely sea-gull maiden. Returning to the 
rock, he helped Madelon flutter down from her 
throne. 

4 4 That ’s going to be a prize picture,’ ’ said he. 
44 1 ’ll have it enlarged and the name put under 
it.” 

4 4 Whose name!” she asked. 4 4 Mine or the 
Queen of the Sea-gulls!” 

4 4 The name of the picture,” replied Kenneth, 
4 4 is 4 The Queen of the Sea-gulls’ Daughter.’ ” 

It was high time to be making their way to the 
foot of Gull Cliff, for already the sun was dipping 
below the horizon, its last rays gilding a broad 
pathway on the sea. A few minutes later the 
golden globe had vanished, and, as the boys rowed 
the boats to the landing-place, the western sky, up 
to the very zenith, and its mirror, the sea below, 
were flooded with rosy fire. The heavenly lantern 
in the sky having withdrawn its beams, the earthly 
lantern in the tower of Gull Cliff Light was al- 


384 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


ready revolving, shooting forth alternate rays of 
red and white flame, when, as the long northern 
twilight was setting in, the voyagers at last as- 
cended the bluff. 

There was no scaling the lighthouse tower that 
evening. Supper and a good night’s rest had to 
come first ; but Raymonde, pleading that she was a 
lighthouse keeper herself, won a promise that a 
visit to it should be the first item on next day’s 
program. 

Accordingly, early in the morning the band of 
Americans presented themselves before the keeper 
of Gull Cliff Light, who readily consented to take 
them up into his tower and show them the great 
lantern. As they were following their guide up 
the stairway, a sudden cry from Madelon caused 
her friends to halt. They saw her standing still, 
with a startled, bewildered look. Toiling up the 
steep flight she had found rising before her, with 
new vividness, her mind picture of ‘ ‘ the stairs that 
had no ending.” 

6 4 Mercy, Madelon! What is the matter?” ex- 
claimed Ray. 

“It was a lighthouse! We were in a light- 
house!” Madelon answered, quivering with ex- 
citement. 

“What do you mean? What are you talking 
about?” 

“The stairs, the stairs that wouldn’t end! 
They were like these ! ’ ’ 


RAYS OF LIGHT 


385 


4 * What stairs ?” asked Kenneth. 

“The stairs I climbed with my brother. We 
were going up in a place just like this. Oh, it ’s 
all coming back to me now ! They must have been 
lighthouse stairs. Bubba and I were climbing to- 
gether. Oh, could it have been in this very 
place ? ’ ’ 

“It ought to have been here, as this is your 
island,’ ’ answered Ned. 

“Yes, perhaps you ’ll find out that it really was 
this lighthouse, dear,” said Mrs. Heathcote. 
“Try to think. Maybe you can recollect some- 
thing more about it, and about your brother. ’ ’ 

Madelon tried her best to recall something more. 
Then she shook her head. 

“No; all I can remember is that we climbed up 
ever so far. Bubba and I were holding hands. 
He looked like such a big boy to me. He wore a 
white suit. Oh, I wish I could remember his face, 
too ! But I can only see that white suit. ’ ’ 

“Do you remember the lighthouse lantern?” 
asked Lee. 

“No ; I don’t remember getting to the top of the 
stairs at all. We were just going up and up all 
the time, as if there were no end to the stairs. 
That ’s the way it seems to me in my mind picture. 
Only now I feel as if we ’d been climbing up in a 
tower just like this. But, no; it couldn’t have 
been here. For this tower isn’t so very high.” 

“But you were not so very high, either,” said 


386 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

Mrs. Heathcote, ‘ ‘ and to a baby girl, tired out with 
her climb, they might well have seemed, as you 
say, stairs that had no end. You ’ve forgotten all 
but the tired part, you see.” 

4 ‘Yes, that must be it!” agreed Madelon, her 
face brightening with a hope that was becoming 
a conviction. “I ’m going to believe I was really, 
truly here, in this very lighthouse, with my 
brother.” 

Raymonde, ever eager, pressed on ahead and 
questioned the keeper. Could he remember a lit- 
tle boy and girl clambering up these tower stairs 
together ten years and more ago? But the man 
had no mental picture to correspond with Made- 
Ion’s. 

“ Never mind if he doesn’t remember you,” 
said Kenneth. “You ’ve found your island 
and your sign and your Southern Cross. And 
now here are your stairs. Doesn’t that prove 
you ’re on the road to find out all you want to 
know?” 

As if in a dream, Madelon climbed upward with 
the others to where the lantern stood. Scant heed 
she paid to the great lamp with its myriad lenses. 
All the while she was wondering what the mys- 
terious link could be between this island and her- 
self. As they were gazing from the tower, out 
over the sea, she turned to Raymonde. 

“Yes, I have my island and my sign and my 


RAYS OF LIGHT 


387 


cross and my stairs. But I haven’t my Bubba. 
I never shall have Bubba. You have Ned, but I ’ll 
never have my brother again,” wistfully said the 
girl whom the earthquake had left all alone. 


CHAPTER XXV 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 

M ADELON remained lost in dreams during 
the morning’s sail out to far-away Gannet 
Rock where another lighthouse kept watch over 
the waves. Her thoughts were still roving , 4 4 chas- 
ing sea-gulls/ ’ as Tommy put it, in the afternoon 
when, the voyage over and dinner too, the other 
girls, all four sharing one inkstand, were ener- 
getically scribbling home letters. Too restless for 
writing, Madelon was gazing idly out through the 
open window. A team with a load of tourists 
drew up before the cottage gate. She recognized 
the driver as the son of Captain Hawkins, their 
landlord at North Head. Kenneth, reposing on 
the grass, under a tree, also spied the equipage, 
and was at the gate in an instant, to receive a let- 
ter with which Dave Hawkins was signaling. 

<4 I ’m the only one in luck. All the mail ’s for 
me,” he said as he entered the house after read- 
ing the letter which had arrived at the North 
Head post-office the evening before. v 

Leaning over Mrs. Heathcote’s shoulder, Ken- 
neth whispered something to her, to which she re- 
plied in a low voice : 


388 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


389 


“A very good idea.” 

While Madelon was wondering what the “good 
idea ’ ’ could be, Kenneth turned to her, saying : 

“You said this morning you wanted to go down 
again to the Southern Cross. I ’ll take you there 
now if you say so. I ’d like to have another look 
at it, myself.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, I ’d rather go down to my dear Southern 
Cross than do anything else,” she answered, 
eagerly. “I ’ve only been to it once, and we have 
to go back to North Head to-morrow. May I go 
and say good-by to it now, Mrs. Heathcote?” 

‘ ‘ Certainly, dear. And I propose that Ned take 
the rest of us for a walk along the top of the cliffs. 
There must be some magnificent views that we 
have n’t seen yet.” 

They all set forth together, strolling along the 
edge of the headland, but presently Kenneth and 
Madelon parted from the others and descended the 
bluff by a pathway so steep that a wire cable had 
been stretched from summit to base, as a life-line 
to which climbers might cling. Despite the ad- 
vance of the incoming tide, they made their way 
over the broken rocks that rendered the road to 
the cross a difficult one. 

Beaching their goal, they climbed together to a 
resting-place upon the rugged pedestal. Made- 
lon gazed up at the cross and beyond it, into the 
blue, infinite depths of the sky. She lost herself 
again in a dream, till roused by the voice of her 


390 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


companion, leaning against the rock, at her side. 

“My father ’s coming home, ,, said Kenneth. 
“That letter I got just now was from him.” 

“Your father coming home! Is he?” Madelon 
exclaimed. “Back from the Philippines?” 

“Yes. His time out there is up, and he ’s trans- 
ferred to a post over here. He must be on the 
ocean now. I expect I ’ll see him about as soon as 
I get home from this cruise.” 

“Oh, won’t you be glad!” cried Madelon. 
“Just think of having your father back in America 
again where you can see him, instead of way off 
on the other side of the world! Aren’t you aw- 
fully happy about it?” 

“Well — rather!” answered the colonel’s son. 
His face was all lighted up with gladness, for his 
soldier father was his hero. 

“I wish 1 had a father to come back to me/” 
said Madelon, longingly. 

Kenneth looked at her questioningly. 

“Didn’t you tell me you could remember your 
father just a little bit?” 

“I remember a man carrying me on his shoul- 
der,” she replied, “and I suppose he was my fa- 
ther; but I can’t be certain. I ’m sure, though, 
we were on a ship, for I seem to remember the 
deck and the waves. But my best mind picture 
is that one about my brother and the stairs.” 

“7 have a mind picture, myself,” said Kenneth, 
“about my little sister.” It was the first time 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


391 


that he had spoken of his sister since the day of 
Madelon ’s flight to Glenwood and their evening 
halt at the farm-house. 6 ‘ We were down at a 
beach where there were lots of rocks, and she 
played she was a sea-gull, and one of the rocks was 
her nest. Like the Queen of the Sea-gulls, was n’t 
it? She ’d flap her arms and pretend to fly down 
from her nest. She ’d give a big jump, and I ’d 
catch her. There was a boat on the beach, and I 
got into it and played I was the skipper, and she 
flew all around me, playing sea-gull. She ’d perch 
on the gunwale; but when I tried to catch her, 
she ’d fly away. By and by she flew away from 
me for good.” 

“How long ago did your little sister die?” asked 
Madelon. 

“I never told you she died,” answered Ken- 
neth. “I told you I lost her. But I didn’t tell 
you how.” 

Madelon looked at him in wonder. 

“What do you mean? She did n’t die, but you 
lost her?” 

“I lost my little sister,” he said, “the same time 
you were lost — in the earthquake !” 

Madelon started violently. Her dark’ eyes 
gazed at him with an almost frightened look. 

“Kenneth! No! Not really?” 

“Yes!” Before she could recover from the 
shock of her amazement, he added: “Here ’s a 
picture of . my little sister. We, ’re ; all here to- ; 


392 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


gether, my mother and my sister and I.” He 
drew from his pocket a photograph and put it in 
Madelon ’s hand. 

The picture showed a beautiful mother, all in 
white and, nestling in her lap, a winsome little 
girl who seemed about four years old. Leaning 
against the mother stood a fine, spirited-looking 
boy, who had thrown his arm around her shoul- 
ders in a protecting way. At this trio Madelon 
gazed and gazed. Her hand trembled, but she did 
not speak. The pictured faces were speaking to 
her: the little sister’s with its baby loveliness ; the 
boy’s with its straightforward, manly look; the 
mother’s, pathetic in its beauty, for there was a 
wistfulness about it, as if something told her that 
the parting-time was not far away. Kenneth was 
studying the picture, too. 

“My mother and sister have eyes just like 
yours,” he said. “They both of them look like 
you. ” 

The face that Madelon turned toward him was 
very pale. 

“What was your little sister’s name?” she 
asked in a low voice. 

i ‘ Alwyn. ’ ’ 

Madelon pondered the odd, musical name. 

i ‘ Alwyn ! ’ ’ she repeated. ‘ 1 Alwyn l ’ ’ 

“That was my mother’s name, too,” said Ken- 
neth. “So we nicknamed my sister ‘Elfie,’ at 
first — she was such a little elf of a thing! And 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


393 


then we changed it to ‘Fairy’ and ‘Fay.’ We 
called her ‘Little Sister Fairy.’ But she could n’t 
talk plain and she lisped; so when people asked 
her what her name was, she always said, ‘ Thithy 
Fay.’ ” 

“Sister Fairy,” Madelon repeated, as if she 
were waking out of a dream. “Thithy Fay! — 
Cissie Fay! Kenneth — am I? Are we?” 

“Yes!” he answered. “You ’re my Little Sis- 
ter Fairy — and I ’m Bubba.” 

It was all too wonderful ! It was almost blind- 
ing, that flood of light, which in one moment ban- 
ished the clouds of darkness veiling the past. 
Madelon was overwhelmed, stifled by too great 
gladness. 

“Oh — I can’t breathe!” she panted out. 
“I ’m dizzy!” She hid her eyes, as if before too 
dazzling rays of truth. 

Suddenly she felt a splash of cold salt water 
on her forehead. Kenneth had dipped his hand 
into the sea and applied a reviving palmful to her 
brow. 

“What did you do that for?” she exclaimed, the 
cold drops trickling down her face. 

“Thought you must be faint or something! 
You got pretty pale,” he replied. “Well, that 
brought you round, anyhow.” 

“I wasn’t faint! I only — oh, I don’t know 
what’s the matter! It’s too wonderful, that’s 
all.” The “little sister” leaned against the big 


394 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


brother’s shoulder for steadiness. “But is it 
really true?” she kept repeating. “Am I really 
your sister? Am I really, truly, the little girl in 
this picture?” She studied the photograph 
again. “Oh, tell me about my mother I” she 
pleaded. 

“I ’ll tell you everything if you’re all right 
again. Sure you’re not too much excited?” 

“No — oh, no!” Madelon assured him, being, 
doubtless, the most excited girl on that side of the 
ocean at the moment. But, before he could begin, 
she demanded: “Why didn’t you tell me before 
that you were my brother? Didn’t you guess it 
when you heard I ’d been in the earthquake?” 

“Yes, but the Heathcotes told me not to let 
you suspect till I could prove it in black and 
white.” 

“But how was I lost? Why was I all alone 
with that strange woman, when Grandma Grant 
found me? Why weren’t you with me?” 

“Because I was n’t there at all,” answered her 
brother. “I was in Boston with Uncle Frank and 
Aunt Margaret. Father was out in the Philip- 
pines. Mother and you were on your way to join 
him. That ’s why you were stopping in San Fran- 
cisco. I ’ll have to start in and tell you every- 
thing from the beginning. 

1 t The first time Father was sent out to the Phil- 
ippines we were with him for a while. The 
tropics didn’t seem to hurt you, but I couldn’t 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


395 


stand the climate. So the year before the earth- 
quake Mother brought me back to America, and 
she brought you along, too, meaning to go back 
with you to the Philippines the next spring. 
Father saw us off on the boat. That must be the 
time you remember him. The year we were over 
here together we joined Uncle Frank and Aunt 
Margaret and came up with them to Grand Manan 
for our summer outing. I ’ll tell you why pretty 
soon. ,, 

“Then it was this lighthouse !’ ’ Madelon inter- 
rupted. “Ken, don’t you remember climbing the 
stairs, too?” 

“I remember taking you up more than once,” 
he replied. “Well, I had Mother and you all win- 
ter, but in the spring you started for San Fran- 
cisco to take the steamer, and I was left behind. 
This picture was taken just before you left.” 

“Poor little Bubba!” said Madelon, pityingly. 
“You must have been very lonely without us.” 

“I was a pretty homesick kiddie,” he confessed. 
“Well, your steamer was delayed, so you were 
three or four days in San Francisco, and while 
you were waiting, Mother was suddenly taken very 
ill. She had to go to a hospital and leave you 
with Mrs. Eoss — she was the lady at whose house 
you were boarding. We found that out from a 
letter written by Mother’s nurse at the hospital. 
Then came the earthquake and the fire, and 
Mother didn’t know what had become of you! 


396 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


The shock of it all was too much for her — and 
she died.” 

The daughter’s eyes were shining with tears as 
she listened. 

‘ 1 Mother, I love you,” she whispered, and ten- 
derly she kissed the pictured face. Then she 
looked up at her brother. 

“I wish she could have known that I was really 
safe. Tell me the rest. Why couldn’t they find 
me?” 

“Everything was done that could be done to 
trace you,” said Kenneth. “Uncle Frank went 
on, of course; but it was a long while before he 
could get through to San Francisco. The city was 
wrecked, and everything was in confusion. It was 
as bad as war. All he could find out was that 
your boarding-house was in ruins, and Mrs. Ross 
had been killed, and a little girl about your age 
had been taken from it to a hospital where she 
died. She was wrapped in a cloak that we knew 
was Mother’s. It had a letter from Father in the 
pocket. And they said she had brown hair and 
dark eyes — so of course every one believed it was 
you” 

‘ ‘ But who was she — poor little thing ? Why was 
she in my mother’s cloak?” 

“Wait and you ’ll see. But you understand, 
don’t you, how it was? We could only think one 
thing — that the little girl was you” 

“Of course 1” agreed Madelon. “You thought 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


397 


Mother and I had both died. Oh — my poor fa- 
ther ! Poor brother ! ’ ’ 

“It turned Father’s hair gray — losing you 
both, ’ ’ said Kenneth. 6 i When I saw him again, I 
hardly knew him.” 

‘ ‘ But now he ’ll know I ’m found ! ’ ’ cried Made- 
Ion. “Now he ’ll have his little girl again. And 
I ’ll have him! A father! I ’ll really have a fa- 
ther.” 

“It ’s a mighty good thing they sent me to 
Beaufort and you out to Bidgemont,” said her 
brother. “If they hadn’t, we shouldn’t have 
found each other yet. ’ ’ 

“We ’d never have found each other!” she de- 
clared. “Oh, it makes me shiver to think of it! 
Just suppose Aunt Edith had given in to me and 
not sent me out to the Castle ! Kenneth, when did 
you first guess I was your sister?” 

“The second time I came to the Heathcotes’. 
The first time, when I landed on them with the 
Belgian refugee, I kept trying to think where I ’d 
seen you before, or somebody like you. And when 
I came back to call on them, I found everybody 
out but Mrs. Heathcote, and she asked me a lot 
about myself. I told her about Mother and how 
my little sister had been killed in the earthquake. 
Then she told me about you , and when she said 
you used to call yourself ‘Thithy Fay,’ I was just 
sure I ’d found my little sister. And then I knew 
what you looked like, the big portrait we have of 


398 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

Mother, when she was a girl. The Heathcotes 
backed me up in the idea that you might be my 
sister, but they said we mustn't risk getting you 
excited all for nothing. So we kept dark." 

< ‘ Did Ray know about it f Did Ned V ' Madelon 
broke in. 

“Ned did, but not Ray. Mrs. Heathcote 's go- 
ing to tell all the girls this afternoon, though. 
Well," he continued, “you know at Christmas 
time you showed me the flag quilt. That settled 
it for me. I knew you were my sister. For I re- 
member Mother making that quilt. She used to 
let me pin the flags in place, when she wanted to 
keep me quiet." 

* ‘ That 's why, when I was telling you about my- 
self, you looked at me so hard you frightened 
me!" exclaimed Madelon. “Now I see why you 
were so fascinated by that quilt." 

“But I didn't remember that Japanese writ- 
ing on the sun-flag," said Kenneth. “It wasn’t 
there when 1 knew the quilt. Lucky we played 
forfeits that night! When the thing was trans- 
lated, I found 1 had my clue." 

“Did it tell anything about meV y she asked 
eagerly. 

“It was all about you. After you and Ray- 
monde were safe off at school, Dr. Heathcote let 
me send the quilt on to Uncle Frank — " 

“That 's why Ray couldn 't find it!" Madelon 
interrupted. 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 399 

“Yes. Uncle Frank had the words translated 
by a Japanese student he knows in Boston.’ ’ 

“Oh, what do they mean!” 

< 4 This. ’ ’ Pulling a memorandum book from his 
pocket, Kenneth showed her a page on which was 
written : 

To the Honorable Miss Sister Fairy, more beautiful 
than the cherry-blossoms of Nippon; a token of regard 
from his contemptible unworthiness, Komura Taro, of 
Kyoto, Nippon. 

“Nippon means Japan, of course,” her brother 
explained. 

4 4 But who was Komura Taro ! And why was he 
a 4 contemptible unworthiness’!” 

4 4 It ’s polite in Japan to call yourself names and 
compliment the other person. And the Japs wear 
their last names first and their first names last. 
Hold on ! I did n’t tell you ! There was a Japa- 
nese date on the flag, too. Thirty-ninth year of 
something or other — it was the same as 1906, the 
earthquake year, and the day of the month was 
the same as our April fifteenth. The thing had 
been written three days before the earthquake. 
So the next thing was to find Mr. Komura. I 
had n’t written to Father about you at first, did n’t 
want to raise his hopes for nothing. But then I 
wrote. He couldn’t leave his post to do any 
hunting, himself, but a friend of his out there went 
and ran the Komura family to earth in Kyoto. 


400 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

Taro wasn’t there, himself. But we got his ad- 
dress. He was back in San Francisco again, 
though he ’d gone home after the earthquake. I 
got the news just before my graduation. That 
was what sent me out to California. The Yo- 
semite was just a P. S. to the real business. Well, 
the rest was easy sailing. I found Komura, and 
when he heard I was your brother he was so glad, 
he painted a scroll picture of cherry blossoms for 
you. You ’ll like it. He was the one who saved 
you, and he ’s never forgotten you.” 

“But how did that Japanese save me?” 

“Why, it was this way. He was a student 
who ’d come over from Japan just before the 
earthquake. He was working for Mrs. Ross to 
pay his way. Then Mother and you came to stay 
at her house, and you made great friends with 
him. You weren’t afraid of him, like the other 
little girl.” 

“The one that was wrapped in Mother’s cloak?” 

“Yes. She was a little waif that Mrs. Ross 
had taken in. Komura says he used to amuse you 
by making you toys and drawing pictures for you, 
and Mother asked him to write something for you 
on the sun-flag in the quilt. So he did, and she 
gave him our picture in return. It was a dupli- 
cate of this one, with our names on the back in 
her handwriting. He had it with him when I 
came to see him, and he lent it to me to show as a 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


401 


proof. Of course that clinched the whole thing.” 

“But you haven’t told me how he saved me,” 
said Madelon, and her brother went on with the 
story. 

“Komura says, when the earthquake came, he 
woke up to find the house rocking and the ceiling 
crashing down. He rushed into your room and 
found it in ruins. He knew Mrs. Ross was sleep- 
ing there, taking care of you; but he did n’t know 
the other child was there, too. He only saw that 
Mrs. Ross was past helping, and he snatched you 
out of your crib and wrapped you in the quilt that 
was over you. He ran out-of-doors with you and 
down the street. People were pouring out of the 
houses everywhere. He said a woman came by, 
screaming for help. He stopped her and told her 
he ’d help her if she ’d hold you till he came back. 
He put you into her arms — ” 

“Then she was the woman who had me and was 
fainting when Grandma Grant found me!” ex- 
claimed Madelon. “She cried out something 
about the house falling. Did the house I was in 
all fall down?” 

“No; it was only partly wrecked. But you 
don’t know what house the woman meant, do you? 
Maybe it was her own. She fainted, didn’t she, 
before she could tell any more ? W ell, ’ ’ continued 
Kenneth, “Komura ran back to see if he could find 
the other little girl. But as he was going into the 


402 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

house, something struck him, and the next thing 
he knew, he was in a hospital. He ’d been badly 
hurt and out of his head for some time.” 

“Poor Komura! And he ’d been so good to 
me!” said Madelon, pityingly. “But who found 
the other poor little girl that was taken for me?” 

“A rescue party found her. Uncle Frank says 
she must have been sleeping in the room with 
Mrs. Ross and you, because they wrapped her in 
Mother’s cloak when they took her out. But she 
was unconscious, and the bed she was in was so 
covered with plaster from the ceiling, it was no 
wonder Komura didn’t see her when he rushed 
in to save you. ’ ’ 

“But didn’t he try to find me after he got 
well ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, he tried; but he couldn’t speak much 
English and he didn’t know just how to go about 
it. Besides, he was in the hospital for three or 
four months. Then he went back to Japan, but a 
year ago he came to California again. He ’d 
never forgotten you all that time, and it always 
troubled him that he ’d had to leave you with a 
stranger. ’ ’ 

“But you told him how Grandma Grant took 
me, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, and I stopped at the ranch on my way 
home.” 

“Did you? And saw my dear old grandma?” 
Madelon listened with delight while Kenneth told 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


403 


her how he had visited the sheep ranch, wheref lit- 
tle Cissie Fay was lovingly remembered still, and 
where there had been great rejoicing at the news 
that her father and brother had been found. 

“I’ll never forget Grandma!” said Madelon. 
“I ’ll write to her this very day and tell her how 
happy I am, and that I want to go out to the ranch 
and see her again. But, Kenneth, how many more 
people know I ’ve found my father and brother? 
Does Aunt Edith?” 

i 1 Of course ! She ’s known for ever so long that 
I thought you were my sister.” 

“Then that ’s why Auntie won’t tell me whether 
I ’m to go back to Netley Hall or not. When I 
tease her to let me know, she just writes there are 
reasons why she can’t say anything about it yet. 
I ’ve been so afraid that meant I was going to 
have a governess again! But it really means — 
I ’m going to have a father again. My — father! 
He ’s coming! He ’s coming! He ’s coming! 
I ’ll see him soon! soon! soon!” 

“And here ’s a message from him,” said Ken- 
neth, handing her a letter. “It came inside of 
mine. I was waiting to hear from him before I 
told you that you belonged to us. I thought he 
might want to tell you, himself, when he comes 
back. But his letter to me said I was to go ahead 
and tell you now. ’ ’ 

In the letter that had come inclosed for her, 
Madelon learned for the first time something of 


404 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


what a father’s love means. Silently she read it, 
and then, her eyes glistening again with tears, she 
slipped it into her brother’s hand, that he might 
read it, too. 

Suddenly, amazed at her own forgetfulness, she 
cried out : 

“But I Ve never asked you who sent me my 
picture of the Queen of the Sea-gulls, and the lava, 
and the birthday-card. Bubba, was it youV ’ 

“I wanted to give you a birthday present,” he 
admitted. 

“Oh, tell me when my real birthday comes ! Is 
it the twelfth of July?” 

“That ’s it. The picture and the lava were 
mine. They ’d belonged to Mother, and I wanted 
you to have them. But I had to work hard to get 
them to you without your guessing where they 
came from. We had to think up a regular con- 
spiracy — what you might call a frame-up.” The 
wife of Colonel Archer, the principal of Beau- 
fort, turned out to have played a leading part in 
the conspiracy. “Before I started West,” Ken- 
neth went on, “I left the package with Mrs. 
Archer. She promised she ’d get it to you on 
your birthday. She said she ’d go by on the train 
and have the guard leave it at the Netley station. 
That would look sort of mysterious.” 

“Kenneth — who was my Queen of the Sea- 
gulls?” 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 405 

The brother smiled into his little sister’s face, 
and answered : 

“ Mother herself.” 

“ Mother I Mother, when she was a girl? Oh, 
Ken, how perfectly beautiful I Oh, that makes me 
so happy!” 

“Mother wrote that little song of the sea-gull 
queen when she was up here as a girl,” Kenneth 
explained. 6 i And an artist painted that picture 
of her on the rock.” 

“And when you took my picture yesterday by 
the Southern Cross,” said Madelon, “you told 
me you were going to name it ‘ The Queen of the 
Sea-gulls’ Daughter’! Now I see what you 
meant. Oh, I didn’t know why I loved my queen 
of the sea-gulls so ! But now I know : it was be- 
cause she was my own, own mother. And my 
island was her island, too. And my mystic sign 
was her sign, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes, that ’s why she put it on the quilt and 
the lava. A stands for Alwyn, and then her fa- 
ther was on the Lord Ashburton. He was the 
American boy who climbed the cliff. ’ ’ 

“Was he? Why, Ken — then that little Elfie, 
who went out and found him in the morning, was 
my grandmother.” 

“Mine, too — don’t forget me,” Kenneth re- 
minded his sister. 

“It’s better than a hundred fairy-stories!” 


406 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 

cried Elfie’s granddaughter, “Oh, Bubba! 
Those two circles on each side of the ‘A,’ I know 
what they ought to stand for: for you and me, 
brother and sister. We ’re the two grandchildren 
of the wreck.” 

Eagerly she listened while her brother told her 
how their grandfather, when a boy of Kenneth’s 
age, having a heart for adventure, but a lean 
purse, had sailed before the mast as a means of 
seeing Europe; and how on his voyage home he 
had met shipwreck and his future bride on Grand 
Manan. 

“Now I know why we all came up here that 
summer,” said Madelon. “And I know why 
you ’ve brought me here again. You wanted to 
tell me all my story right here on my island. 
Bubba, you ’re just as much of a mischief still as 
your little boy picture looks.” 

They found it delicious to retrace in memory 
the steps which, beginning with their introduction 
to each other on that stormy night nearly a year 
ago, had led up to this afternoon’s revelation by 
the Southern Cross. 

“Do you remember,” said Kenneth, “how that 
woman at the farm-house in Glenwood thought we 
were brother and sister?” 

“Yes, and she said we ‘favored each other’! 
We certainly must look alike! And, Ken, do you 
remember, while we were waiting for our supper 
at the farm-house, I asked you what made you 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT 


407 


come with me to Glenwood, and you said you 
wouldn’t have liked to have your sister stranded 
alone at night? You knew all the time that I was 
your little sister.” 

“ And I was n’t going to let you fly away from 
me again,” answered Kenneth. 

It was no wonder that they lingered long at 
the Southern Cross. As Madelon told Raymonde 
afterwards, they had “a whole ten-years ’-full of 
things to talk over.” At last they awoke to the 
discovery that the sun had traveled surprisingly 
far westward, and it was high tide. The waves, 
though gentle, were washing over the rocks that 
separated them from the shore. Madelon would 
have considered it all in the day’s fun to go splash- 
ing through the water ; but Kenneth, brother-like, 
lifted her up and carried her across. 

“I ’m too heavy for you ! A great big girl like 
me!” she protested, laughing, her arms locked 
about her brother’s neck. 

“You heavy!” he scoffed. “I could carry you 
for miles. You ’re as light as a feather, Little 
Sister Fairy.” 


CHAPTER XXVI 


u SALUTE THE COLORS !” 


OLONEL STERLING had arrived in Ridge- 



mont soon after the travelers had returned 


from Grand Manan, and Madelon had quickly 
learned that having a father was about the hap- 
piest thing that could come to a girl who had been 
“all alone in the world/ ’ But she could not real- 
ize all it meant to that father to have his own 
little daughter in his arms again. The colonel’s 
duties at his new post would not, however, admit 
of his restored darling’s making her home with 
him as yet, and so, believing that she needed a 
mother’s wise and loving care more than board- 
ing-school life, he had gratefully agreed to Mrs. 
Heathcote’s urgent plea that Madelon be Ray- 
monde’s companion through the coming year, go- 
ing with her as a day-scholar to Netley Hall. 

“We ’ll be just like real sisters at last!” was 
Ray’s joyful exclamation, when it had been settled 
that her princess was to live for the present at 
“Heathcote Light.” And Ned declared that it 
wouldn’t seem homelike a bit if he didn’t find 
Madelon there when he came back from college for 


408 


“SALUTE THE COLORS!” 409 

his next Christmas vacation ; she belonged to the 
family now. 

Colonel Sterling carried his daughter away with 
him for the rest of his leave of absence, that she 
might make the acquaintance of the uncle and aunt 
with whom so many of Kenneth’s boyhood days 
had been spent. This visit was followed by a fly- 
ing trip to Bar Harbor, for the colonel could not 
rest content till he had in person expressed his 
gratitude to Mrs. Morgan, to whom he owed so 
deep a debt for her guardianship of his lost littfe 
girl, and Madelon was all impatience to show Aunt 
Edith what a “splendid father and brother” she 
had. 

Autumnal crispness was tingling in the air and 
the maples on the Heathcotes’ lawn were already 
showing flecks of yellow and crimson as, on a 
bright September day, those vacation-time daugh- 
ters of the house, Lee, Tommy, and Petronella, 
were gazing expectantly from the window of a 
room that bore a striking resemblance to the bou- 
doir of the Sleeping Beauty at D’Arcy Castle! 
Here were the same filmy curtains a-bloom with 
Japanese cherry-blossoms, and the princess’s 
silky-satiny divan and chairs. Here, too, were her 
piano, writing-desk, and bookcase, and her table 
with the mother-of-pearl top, bearing that memo- 
rable chafing-dish and the kettle and the Dresden 
china tea-set. Her favorite pictures were on the 
walls, and The Queen of the Sea-gulls held the 


410 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


place of honor. What had caused the Heathcotes ’ 
old nursery to undergo this transformation? The 
wielder of th§ magic wand was Aunt Edith. She 
had insisted upon giving to her ex-ward, as a part- 
ing present, the charming furnishings of the prin- 
cess’s boudoir, and Madelon, in her turn, had in- 
sisted on Raymonde’s being joint owner with her- 
self. 

“ There ’s the car. They’re coming now!” 
cried Tommy, spying a motor spinning up the 
road. “Come along down, and open the door for 
them.” 

She led the way down-stairs at headlong speed, 
only to find Dr. Heathcote, his wife, and the major 
already on the porch, awaiting their guests, whom 
Ned and Ray had gone to the station to meet. A 
minute later the car had stopped at the door, and 
Madelon and Kenneth, and with them a tall, sol- 
dierly-looking man, his face bronzed by exposure 
to tropical suns, were being welcomed by the 
watchers on the porch. A joyous Madelon it was, 
who flew first into Mrs. Heathcote ’s arms and 
then into the ardent embraces of Tommy, Lee, and 
Pet. These transports were soon followed by a 
rush of laughing, chattering, exuberant girls up- 
stairs to the boudoir, into which Madelon was 
ushered with much ceremony, for the transforma- 
tion had gone on while she was away. Such a 
buzzing of voices and such peals of merriment as 
reached the rest of the family below! Madelon ’s 


“SALUTE THE COLORS !” 411 

friends had many questions to pour out, and she 
many things to tell. 

“How does it feel really to have a father 
again ? ’ ’ asked Lee. “Are you getting used to it? 
Do you feel at home with him yet?” 

“I feel as if I ’d had him all my life, I ’m so at 
home with him,” answered the happy daughter. 
“Only I love him extra hard because I lost him 
for so long.” 

“Well,” said Pet, “I ’ll never get used to it 
that you ’re really not Madelon D ’ Arcy at all, but 
Alwyn Sterling.” 

“But I am Madelon still. It ’s all been settled. 
I ’m so used to Madelon, I don’t want to give it 
up. So I ’ve copied Sentimental Sue and taken 
a middle name. I ’m Alwyn Madeleine Sterling. 
Madelon ’s just a pet name, of course. Ken 
says I ought to put in Ashburton too and do 
the thing up handsomely. But what do you think 
father says Alwyn means? ‘Elf Friend’! And 
he says I ’m his ‘little Elfie’ still and I always shall 
be.” 

Just then a warlike sound assailed the ears of 
the soldier’s daughter and her friends. Up from 
the hall below there rang out a child’s voice, 
shouting, “Bang! Bang!” 

“There’s Louis Carrette!” said Ray. “We 
asked his mother to bring him here so Ken could 
see his pal again.” 

Looking over the banisters, the girls saw a 


412 


THE GIRLS OF OLT) GLORY 


sight that brought them quickly down to share 
the fun. The colonel, the major, and the former 
lieutenant of the Beaufort Cavalry were standing 
with their hands uplifted, as if surrendering be- 
fore a victorious charge. Dr. Heathcote was cry- 
ing mournfully, “Kamerad!” and Ned lay gasp- 
ing on the floor, with his hand pressed to his 
heart, apparently nursing a fatal wound, while 
a very diminutive officer in full khaki uniform, 
prancing with a toy rifle in one hand and a tin 
sword in the other, was making merciless lunges 
at his unarmed and helpless foes. 

4 4 Ken brought that soldier suit for him, ,, ex- 
plained Madelon. “He wanted to give his pal a 
present, and lie said if the 0. G. G.’s were going 
to send Louis to Beaufort, it was time he got into 
training.” 

“Louis tells us he ’s going back to Belgium to 
fight for his king,” said Raymonde to Colonel 
Sterling, when the sham battle was over. “He 
calls King Albert ‘my Keeng.’ ” 

By this time, however, the small Belgian had 
extended his allegiance. When the colonel asked 
him for whom he was going to fight, he answered : 

“For my keeng and my uncle.” 

“And your uncle? Who is he? A soldier, 
too?” 

Proudly Monsieur Louis replied: 

“My Uncle Sam. I fight for my Uncle Sam.” 

“He ’s all ready to go over the top,” said 


“SALUTE THE COLORS!” 


413 


Colonel Sterling, as Ken hoisted his pal to his 
shoulder. “If the boys in my new command have 
his spirit, I shall be satisfied. ’ ’ 

Uncle Sam’s new recruit rode in to luncheon 
on Kenneth’s shoulder. Catching Madelon as 
she reached the dining-room door, Dr. Ileathcote 
observed to Colonel Sterling: 

“I suppose you and Ken think she belongs ex- 
clusively to you , but the Heathcotes are never go- 
ing to give up their share in this little lady. We 
all love her too much.” 

The glad day ended. The gloaming came. No 
sign of equinoctial storm this clear evening. Yet 
it was a year almost to a day since the lonely 
princess of the Castle had spent her first night in 
this happy home, and Lighthouse-Keeper Ray, re- 
membering her duty, had sent the beams of her 
lantern flashing out into the darkness, and a tem- 
pest-driven and wounded youth, carrying a half- 
conscious child, had found his way to the Heath- 
cotes’ door, and a brother and sister had looked 
each other in the face, never dreaming themselves 
akin. 

How different it all was now! When dinner 
was over and the twilight fast deepening into 
night — a night with a breath of frost in the wind — 
the Heathcotes and their guests assembled in the 
library where a wood fire shot tongues of flame 
up the chimney. Raymonde and Lee, Tommy and 
Petronella, were curled up together on the lounge 


414 


THE GIELS OF OLD GLOEY 


near the window. Ned, astride of a chair, with 
his arms crossed on the hack, and Kenneth, seated 
on a corner of the writing-table, were carrying on 
a bantering conversation with the girls. But 
Madelon did not intend to let this last evening 
with her father be given up to behavior so frivo- 
lous. She had joined the group of grown-ups who 
were gathered around the cheery blaze, and had 
seated herself on a hassock by her father’s side, 
nestling her head against his knee. Of course the 
next moment he had her hand tight clasped in one 
of his, while with the other he stroked his Elbe’s 
masses of dark hair. 

“ Is n ’t it time I had something restored to me ? ’ ’ 
Kenneth said to Eaymonde. “Here I went and 
studied Japanese for all I was worth last spring! 
What about those swords?” 

“I forgot all about them!” exclaimed Eay, 
springing up. ‘ ‘ That was a nice way to treat him, 
wasn’t it, girls! — after he ’d redeemed his for- 
feit so beautifully? You poor, ill-treated thing, 
I ’ll get your swords this very minute. I must run 
up and light my lantern, too, before it ’s pitch 
dark.” 

Kenneth followed her out of the library. 

“I want to go up with you,” he said. “I ’ve 
never seen the lantern that introduced me to 
Heathcote Light.” 

On the way to the attic, Eay slipped into her 
room and came back, bringing a little carved 


“SALUTE THE COLORS!” 


415 


wooden box. “This is my treasure chest,” said 
she, “and the swords are in it. I 'll give them 
to you when I 've lighted my lantern.” 

Having kindled her beacon in the gable win- 
dow, Raymonde opened her treasure-box and drew 
out from among a number of trinkets the minia- 
ture crossed swords that had once adorned Ken- 
neth's cap. 

“My swords are always at your service,” said 
Kenneth, as she armed him with his weapons. 
“I 'm always ready to march under your orders, 
General. I wonder,” he added more seriously, 
“if you 've ever realized how much you did for us 
all when you lighted your lantern that time last 
year.” 

“Why, I did do my little bit, didn't I?” 

“ ‘Your little bit’! You did the whole thing. 
If I hadn't seen your light I 'd have steered the 
wrong way and landed somewhere else instead. 
Why, Ray, we 'd never have found my little sister, 
but for you. ' ' 

“Don't forget Louis Carrette,” said she. “He 
helped too, by tumbling into the Kintakoy.” 

“No, I won't forget my pal,” Kenneth prom- 
ised with a laugh. “And I 'll never forget you 
and your lantern. ' ' 

“Maybe you might, though,” she returned mis- 
chievously. “So I 'll give you something to re- 
member that night by.” Searching again in her 
box, she brought out a tiny lantern about one inch 


416 


THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


in length. 6 ‘ I saved this from one of our Christ- 
mas trees ages ago when I was a little mite of a 
girl — and I ’ve kept it ever since. ’ 9 

“That ’s great!” he exclaimed. “It ’s a regu- 
lar headlight ! I ’ll never get lost in the dark with 
this. It ’ll steer me straight for the Lighthouse, 
every time ! ’ ’ 

“Here comes the lighthouse keeper!” said Col- 
onel Sterling, when Raymonde and Kenneth re- 
entered the library. Rising, and taking a little 
velvet case from his pocket, he continued: “I 
suppose this modest little woman has n’t the least 
idea how much Elbe and Ken and I owe our hap- 
piness to her ; but we all agree, my dear, that you 
have done even more for us than lighting the way 
to our lost darling that night. Elfie has told me 
all about her sister Ray’s devotion. I know how 
you have stood by her through everything, even 
risking your standing at school in trying to bring 
my little runaway back, and how you chose to 
spend those weeks alone with her in her suspen- 
sion.” 

“Oh, but, Colonel Sterling,” interrupted Ray- 
monde, “I really had to be suspended, too, for I ’d 
broken the rules terribly. Besides, it was lots of 
fun.” 

“I know all about that,” said the colonel, “and 
I know that your friendship all this time has 
helped her to be, well — nearly as sunny and happy 
a person as yourself.” 


“SALUTE THE COLORS!” 


417 


The roses in Ray ’s cheeks grew pinker than ever 
at these words; but being a very sensible lassie, 
she realized that they were meant to give her 
pleasure; and so she said her “thank you” with a 
grateful smile and a sparkle in the eyes that looked 
up into the colonel ’s face. 

‘ ‘ And now, my dear, ’ ’ he continued , 1 ‘ I want you 
to take this little gift and, whenever you wear it, 
to read in it a message of gratitude from Elbe’s 
father . 9 ’ He put in her hand the velvet case, and 
when she opened it she found a gold brooch. Its 
outlines formed a star and, twisted in and out of 
its points, was a wreath of tiny enameled forget- 
me-nots. 

“Oh, how perfectly beautiful, how darling !” 
began Raymonde, and then surprised and de- 
lighted Colonel Sterling by flinging her arms 
around his neck and kissing him. 

“Father and I had it made for you in Boston,” 
explained Madelon. “Ken said it must be a star, 
because you ’re a Ray yourself, and your lantern 
gives light in the dark, like a star. And I said 
it must have a crown of forget-me-nots, because 
we ’ll never, never, never forget to be real sis- 
ters.” 

“Are n’t there any forget-me-nots for meV y in- 
quired an aggrieved and melancholy voice, and 
Ned looked reproachfully at Madelon. “Ray gets 
all the credit, but 1 was the one who discovered you 
first.” 


418 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


‘ ‘ Why, so you did! You were the first of the 
Heathcotes that saw me ! Father, he watched me 
over the Harrisons ’ fence, when naughty little me 
was playing Italian singing girl! Ned, I do ap- 
preciate it deeply! Next Christmas I ’ll give you 
a giant forget-me-not for a scarf pin. It will just 
match your blue' eyes!” said this saucy “Elf 
Friend.” 

While Raymonde was displaying her treasure 
to the others, Madelon withdrew to the window 
and stood looking out at the evening star. 
“Ray ’s just as cheery and sparkly as that,” she 
was thinking, when her brother came to her side. 

“Well, Thithy Fay, we didn’t expect this kind 
of thing a year ago, did we?” 

“No, you dear old Bubba, we certainly didn’t,, 
when you came in from the storm and frightened 
Pet and me nearly out of our senses. Oh, isn’t 
it all just perfect now? I think I ’m the happiest 
girl in the world. ’ ’ 

“Well, happiest girl in the world,” said Mrs. 
Heathcote, joining them at the window, “tell me 
what you think of your brother now that you know 
him so well.” 

“I ’ve found out he ’s such a naughty, teasing 
brother that he needs me to make him behave.” 

“And what do you think of her, Kenneth?” 

Kenneth threw his arm around Madelon and 
drew her close with an air of protecting owner- 
ship, as he answered : 


“SALUTE THE COLORS!” 


419 


“Oh, she ’s a great little sister!” t 

A minute later Madelon ’s quick ears caught the 
sound of wheels. 

“It ’s coming now,” she whispered to her 
brother, and together they left the room. 

When they returned, Madelon was walking with 
military erectness and a martial step. She was 
carrying as fine a specimen of Old Glory as the 
girls had ever seen. It was the counterpart in 
size of the one that had met with so untimely an 
end, but this flag was of silk, and it hung from a 
staff which bore at its top a brass eagle. Before 
her astonished friends could give expression to 
their wonder and delight, beyond the first “ Oh ’s ! ” 
and “Why’s!” Madelon appealed to Colonel 
Sterling, a sudden flush of embarrassment rising 
in her cheeks. 

“You tell them, Father dear. I can’t!” 

The colonel rose and, putting his arm around 
her, said: 

“My Elfie has not yet quite recovered from her 
distress at having burned the Old Glory Girls’ 
flag, and when we were in Boston we decided that 
the best reparation she could make would be to 
give another flag to that illustrious band of pa- 
triots. So we bought this one, and now she wishes 
to present it to the young ladies who made the 
other, and she begs that they will in their turn 
present it to the whole class when school reopens. 


420 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


Will the president of the Old Glory Girls kindly 
accept it!” 

Lee, radiant with smiles, came forward and as 
she received the flag, Major Heathcote said: 

‘ ‘Patriots, salute the colors!” 

The salute was given, and then Ned called out: 

“Three cheers for Old Glory and the O. G. 
G.’s!” 

“If this is n’t the loveliest thing you could pos- 
sibly have done, Madelon!” exclaimed Lee, when 
the loyal demonstrations had ceased. 

“We never dreamed we ’ d have such a glorious 
Old Glory as this!” exulted Raymonde. “And 
isn’t it just like my princess to have thought of 
such a splendid way of making up for burning the 
other flag — when it was only burned by accident, 
anyhow?” 

Enthusiastic were the thanks showered on Col- 
onel Sterling and Madelon, and many were the 
praises that the beauty of the silken banner won. 

When a lull came, the old major grasped the 
colonel’s hand, and, glancing at the young folks 
gathered around the flag, said : 

“There ’s a fine company of patriots for you! 
When their country calls them, every one will an- 
swer, ‘ Ready!’ ” 


AFTER-WORD 


Major Heathcote was a true prophet. Half a 
year later their country did call her sons and 
daughters to do their part in the Great War, and 
these boys and girls in whom the old veteran had 
put his trust were instant with their answer, 
‘ ‘ Ready ! ’ 9 The call to arms sounded. The colo- 
nel’s son and the major’s grandson enlisted in the 
service, and one of them carried with him for good 
luck a tiny lantern, lest he should lose his way in 
the dark, ‘ ‘ somewhere in France. ’ ’ 

The Girls of Old Glory were in active service, 
too, though theirs was a gentler part. White- 
robed, white-veiled, and wearing the badge of 
mercy, they worked with nimble, tireless fingers 
for the Red Cross; and, in the gardens of Netley 
Hall and Heathcote Light, loyal young farmerettes 
toiled to raise homelier, but more precious, crops 
than flowers. War time gave Madelon her chance 
to prove her courage. Colonel Sterling, training 
troops for the struggle overseas, was proud of his 
son whom nothing could hold back, but no less 
proud of his daughter. It was not an easy sacri- 
fice that she was called upon to make, the giving 
up of the father and brother that she had found 
at last; but this was the hour of her country’s 
421 


422 THE GIRLS OF OLD GLORY 


need, and she let them see no tears, hear no com- 
plaints at parting. She had only brave, bright 
smiles for them and words of cheer. Hers was a 
double sacrifice, and she made it gallantly. 

But the story of our girls “ keeping the home 
fires burning” and our boys serving “over there” 
cannot be told in one short After-Word. That is 
another chapter in their lives. Enough to tell you 
here that Old Glory had no cause to be ashamed 
of them, for, in the Nation’s testing-time, one and 
all of them 

On War’s red touchstone rang true metal. 


THE END 





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SEP 2 n 191P 



